
Class -1 

Book 

Copyright})^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



LIFE IN DIXIE 



DURING THE WAR. 



? I ^ 



t86J-1862-J863-t864-J865, 



MARY A. H. GAY. 



THE THIRD EDITION. {ENLARGED.) 



ATLANTA, GA: 
CHARLES P. BYRD. 

1897. 






oS. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the j^ear Ls97, 

By Mary A. H. Gay, 
[n the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 






CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Introductory Remarks ' 9 

Chapter I.— The Magnolia Cadets 17 

Chapter II.— The War Record of DeKalb County 22 

Chapter III.— Labors of Love— Musical— Decatur 8(5 

Chapter IV. — Labors of Love — Knitting- and Sewing, and 

Writing Letters to '' Our Soldiers " '. 42 

Chapter V.— The Third Maryland Artillery— Some Old 

Songs 48 

Chapter VI.— A Daring and Unique Chase— The Capture 

and Re-capture of the Railroad Engine, "The General" 52 
Chapter VII.— Coming Home from Camp Chase— The 

Faithful Servant's Gift— A Glimpse of Confederate 

Braves 58 

Chapter VIII.— Some Social Features— Morgan's Men 
Rendezvous at Decatur— Waddell's Artillery— Visits 
from the Texans— Surgeon Haynie and His Song 72 

Chapter IX.— Thomie's Second Home Coming— He Leaves 
for the Front— His Christian Labors in Camp— He 
Describes the Battle of New Hope Church— The Great 
Revival in Johnston 's Armj' 77 

Chapter X.— A Visit to Dalton— The Fidelity of an Old- 
time Slave 94 

Chapter XL— A Perilous Trust 104 

Chapter XII.— A Scene in an Atlanta Confederate Hos- 
pital 108 

Chapter XIII. — Concealing Confederate Clothing— Valu- 
ables Carried to Atlanta— Toby Taken 111 113 

Chapter XIV.— The Advance Guard of the Yankee 

Army — I am Ordered Out — A Noble Federal 124 

Chapter XV.— The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The 
Death of Toby 135 

Chapter XVI.— Everett's Desertion 146 

Chapter XVII.— A Visit to Confederate Lines— A Nar- 
row Escape— My Return— The Fall of Atlanta 156 

Chapter XVIII.— The Ten Days' Armistice— Going Out 
with the Confederate Clothes— Scenes at Atlanta, and at 
Lovejoy's Station— The Visit to Granbury's Brigade— 
The Last Interview with Thomie 168 



Chapter XIX. — The Hcturn Home — From Jonesboro via 
Augusta — Scenes and Incidents by the Way— The 
Lonely Journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur 193 

Chapter XX. — On tlie Verge of Starvation — A Worn-out 
Army Horse is Found — Uncle Macl^ Makes a Wagon — 
I Make a Unique Trip — Starvation is Warded Off- 
Dangers and Scenes by the Way 207 

Chapter XXI. — A Second Trip for Supplies — Gathering 
"Fodder" from a Cane-brake, as a Preliminary— The 
Lonely Journey — Changing Yankee's Name — I Meet 
the Federal Raiders 226 

Chapter XXII.— News from the Absent Brother— He 
Marches into Tennessee with Hood— Extracts from His 
Letters written on the Way— Two Ears of Parched 
Corn— The Night Burial of a Soldier 248 

Chapter XXIII. —An Incident of the War— Related to 

the Writer by Hon. Roger Q. Mills, of Texas 251 

Chapter XXIV.— Picking up Minie Balls Around At- 
lanta — Exchanging Them for Bread 255 

Chapter XXV. — The Decatur Women's Struggle for 
Bread — Sweet Singing in Hard Places — Pleasant Visi- 
tors — I Make a Trip to Alabama — The News of My 
Brother's Death 2G0 

Chapter XXVI.— My Mother's Death — Rev. John S. 

Wilson Performs the Funeral Service 274 

Chapter XXVII.— A Reminiscence 281 

Chapter XXVIII.— How the Decatur Woman Kept Up 

the Sabbath School 289 

Chapter XXIX.— Postal Affairs— The Postmaster, Hiram 
J. Williams — A Life that was a Reality, but Reads like 
a Romance 298 

Chapter XXX.— The Tragic Death of Sallie Durham— A 

Sketch of the Durham Family 302 

Chapter XXXL— The Death of Melville Clark 310 

Chapter XXXII.— The Morton Family— Incidents Thrill- 
ing and Affecting 318 

Chapter XXXIIL— Hon. Joseph E. Brown's Pikes and 

Guns 319 

Chapter XXXIV.— The Pursuit and Capture of the 

Andrew's Raiders 325 

Confederate Love Song 349 

Conclusion 851 

Appendix 854 



INTRODUCTION. 



I am asked to write a few words of introduction to 
these reminiscences of a lady who, in the pleasant 
afternoon of a life devoted to deeds of mercy and char- 
ity, turns fondl}^ and sympathetically to the past. But 
there is nothing- to be said. What word of mine could 
add to the interest that inheres in this unpretentious 
record of a troubled and bloody period ? The chroni- 
cle speaks for itself, especially to those who remember 
something- of those wonderful days of war. It has 
the charm and the distinction of absolute verity, a 
quality for which we may look in vain in more elabor- 
ate and ambitious publications. Here indeed, is one 
of the sources from which history must g-et its sup- 
plies, and it is informed with a simplicity w^hich 
history can never hope to attain. 

We have here reproduced in these records, with a 
faithfulness that is amazing-, the spirit of those dark 
days that are no more. Tragedy shakes hands with 
what seems to be trivial, and the commonplaces of 
every-day life seem to move forward with the g'ray 
battalions that went forth to war. 

It is a g-entle, a faithful and a tender hand that 
guides the pen — a soul nerved to sacrifice that tells 
the tale. For the rest, let the records speak for them- 
selves. 

JoKL Chandlek Hakris. 



PREFACE. 



B}^ way of preface to "Life in Dixie During the 
War," I scarcely know what to say. I have long* felt 
that it was the duty of the South to bequeath to pos- 
terit}^ the traditions of that period ; for if we do it not 
ourselves they will be swallowed up in oblivion. 
Entertaining' this opinion, I have essayed the task of 
an individual effort, and hope that others may follow 
my example. 

No woman who has seen what I have seen, and 
felt what I have felt, would be apt to write with less 
asperity ; and yet, now that we have come back to the 
United States, and mean to stay in it, let the provoca- 
tion to depart be what it may, I would not put into 
practice an iota of the war-time feeling-. In thus 
expressing- myself, I am sure I represent every Chris- 
tian in my own beautiful Southland. 

There was one for whom these sketches would 
have had a special interest. An inspiring- motive for 
writing- them was that they would be read by my 
nephew, Thomas H. Stokes, of Atlanta, the only child 
of the brother so often mentioned. But, ere he had 
had more than a g-limpse of them, he was called away 
by an Inscrutable Providence, in his pure and beau- 
tiful young- manhood, as w^e trust to a Land of Peace 
more in keeping- with his noble, true, and tender heart, 
than earth with its sin and strife. "Blessed are the 
pure in heart; for they shall see God." 

Mary A. H. Gay. 

Decatur, Georg-ia. 



MTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

THK TOCSIN OF WAR. 

Th' tocsin of war has resounded from Mason and 
D*ixon's line to the Gulf of Mexico, from the snow- 
i^rested billows of the Atlantic to the tranquil waves 
of the Pacific. 

War ! War ! War ! is the battle cry of a people, 
■ho, long- suffering and patient, but now, goaded to 
lesperation and thoroughly exasperated, are deter- 
mined, at all hazards, to protect the rights for which 
their forefathers fought, bled and died ; and which 
their own Thomas Jeiferson embodied in an instrument 
of writing which, for beauty of diction and wisdom of 
thought, will go sounding down the corridors of time, 
so long as time itself shall last — unequaled, unpara- 
lelled ; and which was adopted without a dissenting 
voice by the ablest convocation of men ever assembled 
in national councils as their declaration of human 
rights and liberties. 

Thus, under auspices favorable to the happy and 
speedy development of a new and glorious country, 
commenced the government of the freest and happiest 
people on earth, under the administration of George 
Washington — an administration which caught the eye 
of the world and called forth its admiration ; and 
which the most censorious never had the temerity to 
attack ; an administration which secured for the 
country the alluring title, " The land of the free and 



10 JlSWm/j.,'^ inr'^ 

the home of the brave." Auii ime went abroad 

in stor}' and in song-, and every u. -n on earth soug-ht 
its blessing-s and advantages, ai. ii ,•:-' to be a 
mig-hty country-. 

Coeval with the settlement of this beauti' ^nti- 

nent bj the white man, there came, or rather, ; < ^re 
was brought, a race of people which needed the fos- 
tering- care as well as the strong- arm of slavery^ to 
kindle the latent spark of intellectual fire which hiad 
smoldered for centuries, in, as President Cleveland'' 
would say, " innocuous desuetude." 

This race of people came not as pioneers in th^ 
building- up of this g-reat nation, but as a menial racv\ 
sold into bondag-e by their own kith and kin, and not 
to be endowed with elective franchise nor representa- 
tion in its councils. It was held in bondag-e alike in 
Massachusetts and in South Carolina. Under the 
auspices of slavery, it became a powerful factor in the 
building- up of the staple industries of the country — 
the Southern portion of it directly, the Northern por- 
tion indirectly, and it received in return more than any 
other people in bondag-e has ever received — as a usual 
thing-, g-ood wholesome food, comfortable homes and 
raiment, and tender treatment in sickness. When 
they failed to receive these benefits, their masters 
were improvident and careless alike of the comfort of 
their own wives and children, and they, too, showed 
hard usag-e and neg-lect. This is not said by way of 
apolog-y for any treatment received at the hands of 
Southern slaveholders by this vassal race. I repeat 
that no people held in bondag-e ever received so many 
benefits. 



INTBODVGTION. 11 

Slaven^ as all other institutions, had its evils, and 
those evils were far g-reater to the slaveholder than 
to the slaves. Climatic and other considerations ren- 
dered the system of slavery unprofitable in the North- 
ern States of this g-reat and g-rowing- republic, and the 
men at the helm of their respective g-overnments ag-i- 
tated the subject of emancipation. 

Having- given themselves time to bring- the g-reater 
number of their slaves South and sell them, they nom- 
inally freed the others by leg-islative enactment ; and 
by this g-reat and mag-nanimous action, there were so 
few left that to this day, as attested by Northern 
tourists, a "darkey," or a "colored person," is an ob- 
ject of curiosity and g-reat interest. 

The country, North and South, was too prosper- 
ous. The ag-itators could stand it no long-er. Discord 
and strife took the place of harmony and peace in the 
halls of cong-ress, and in the senate chamber of the 
United States. Men who could in no other way ac- 
quire prominence, became conspicuous as champions 
of an "oppressed and down-trodden race," and were 
swift to slander the white people of the South. Our 
slaves were taug-ht that murder, rapine, arson, and 
every species of wickedness known in the catalog-ue of 
crime which, in any way, could weaken, yea, destroy 
the South, was service most acceptable. 

The country was in the clutches of an org-anized 
mob, determined to precipitate it into the jaws of dis- 
solution. B}' way of confirming- this statement the 
following- resolutions are reproduced. 

These resolutions were adopted by a large and rep- 
resentative body of men at Worcester, Massachusetts, 



12 IXTRODUCriON. 

soon after Fremont's defeat in 1856, and long before 
Governor Gist of South Carolina, and other Southern 
leaders, began to take measures for a peaceable sepa- 
ration, rather than to be forcibly' expelled : 

^^ Resolved, That the meeting- of a state disunion 
convention, attended by men of various parties and 
affinities, gives occasion for a new statement of prin- 
ciples and a new platform of action. 

' ' Resolved, That the conflict between this princi pie 
of liberty and this fact of slavery has been the whole 
history of the nation for fifty years, while the only re- 
sult of this conflict has thus far been to strengthen 
both parties, and prepare the way of a yet more des- 
perate struggle. 

' ' Resolved, That in this emergency we can expect 
little or nothing from the South itself, because it, too, 
is sinking deeper into barbarism every year. Nor 
from a supreme court which is always ready to invent 
new securities for slaveholders. Nor from a president 
elected almost solely by Southern votes. Nor from a 
senate w^hich is permanently controlled by the slave 
power. Nor from a house of representatives which, 
in spite of our agitation, will be more proslavery than 
the present one, though the present one has at length 
granted all which slavery asked. Nor from political 
action as now conducted. For the Republican leaders 
and press freely admitted, in public and private, that 
the election of Fremont was, politically speaking, the 
last hope of freedom, and even could the North cast a 
united vote in 1860, the South has before it four years 
of annexation previous to that time. 

''Resolved, That the fundamental difference be- 



INTBODUCTION. 13 

tween mere political ag-itation and the action we pro- 
pose is this, it requires the acquiescence of the slave 
power, and the other only its opposite. 

''''Resolved^ That the necessity for disunion is writ- 
ten in the whole existing- character and condition of 
the two sections of the country — in social org-aniza- 
tions, education, habits and laws — in the dang-ers of 
our white citizens of Kansas and of our colored ones 
in Boston, in the wounds of Charles Sumner and the 
laurels of his assailant — and no g"overnment on earth 
was ever strong- enough to hold tog-ether such oppos- 
ing^ forces. 

^^ Resolved, That this movement does not seek 
merely disunion, but the more perfect union of the 
free States by the expulsion of the slave States from 
the confederation in which they have ever been an 
element of discord, dang-er and disg-race. 

''Resolved^ That it is not probable that the ulti- 
mate severance of the union will be an action of de- 
liberation or discussion, but that a long- period of 
deliberation and discussion must precede it, and this 
we meet to beg-in. 

''^Resolved, That henceforward, instead of regard- 
ing- it as an objection to any system of policy that will 
lead to the separation of the States, we will proclaim 
that to be the hig-hest of all recommendations and the 
g-rateful proof of statesmanship ; and we will support 
politically and otherwise, such men and measures as 
appear to tend most to this result. 

''''Resolved, That by the repeated confession of 
Northern and Southern statesmen, the existence of 
the union is the chief g-uarantee of slavery, and theit 



14 INTBODUCTION. 

the despots of the whole world and the slaves of the 
whole world have everything- to hope from its de- 
struction and the rise of a free Northern republic. 

''''Resolved, That the sooner the separation takes 
place the more peaceable it will be; but that peace or 
war is a mere secondary consideration in view of our 
present perils. Slavery must be conquered ; peaceably 
if we can, forcibly if we must." 

To keep before the people of the United States, 
North and South, the hostility of the then controling- 
spirit of the North towards the South, the above 
resolutions cannot be repeated too often. Nor were 
they an isolated example of party fanaticism. The 
stock and staple of the entire republican press was 
slander of the Southern people; and like noxious 
weeds it well nig-h rooted out all that was elevating- to 
man, and ennobling- to woman. The pulpit became a 
rostrum from which bitter invective of the South 
flowed in Niagaran torrents ; and the beautiful fields 
of Poesy were made to yield an abundant crop of 
briar and bramble and deadly Upas. 

The burden of every song-, of every prayer, of 
every sermon, was the " poor down-trodden slave" of 
the South. What wonder that seed thus constantly 
and malig-nantly sown sprang- up and bore a crop of 
discontent which nothing short of "separation" from 
the enemy could appease. We, too, felt that under the 
existing circumstances peace or war was a mere 
secondary consideration in view of our perils in the 
union, and took measures to withdraw from a sectional 
union of States that had ceased to respect State 
sovereignty outside of its own borders. 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

The insults and taunts and the encroachments of 
fifty years had welded the people of the South into a 
compact part}^ org-anization, animated for all substan- 
tial purposes by one sentiment and one g-lorious prin- 
ciple of patriotism, and never was there a movement 
in the annals of nations that had a more unanimous 
support. And when the tocsin of war resounded from 
one end of the country- to the other, and reverberated 
over hills and through valleys, the sons and sires in 
the beatiful Sunny South, from the hig-li born and 
cultured g-entleman in whose veins flowed the blue 
blood of the cavalier, to the humblest tiller of the soil 
and the shepherd on the mountain sides, buckled on 
the paraphernalia of warfare and reported for duty. To 
arms ! To arms ! was the patriotic appeal of a people 
who had no other redress ; and I repeat with emphasis 
that never a people responded with more chivalrous 
alacrity or more earnestness of purpose. 

I was too well versed in the politics of the countr}-, 
too familiar with the underground working's of the 
enemy, to hesitate. I, too, enlisted in the strug-gle, 
and in the glorious efforts to establish "home rule 
and domestic felicity," not literall}^ in the ranks of the 
soldier, but in the g-reat army of women who were 
willing- to toil and to suffer, and to die, if need be, for 
the cause of the South. 

I had but one brother, a darling- young half brother, 
Thomas J. Stokes, who had g-one to Texas to practice 
his chosen profession. With all the intensity of my 
ardent nature I loved this brother, and would have 
died that he might live ; and yet with all the perils 
involved, it was with a thrill of pride that I read his 



16 INTROVUGTION. 

long- letter breathing-, pulsing-, with the patriotism 
illsutrated by our ancestry in the revolutionary strug-- 
.g-le for American Independence. And now this noble 
brother and myself, thoug-h widel}" separated, enlisted 
in aid of the same g-reat cause ; the perpetuity of con- 
stitutional rig-hts. He to serve on the battle-field, and 
I to care for the sick and wounded soldiers, or to labor 
in any capacity that would give greatest encourage- 
ment to our cause. 



Life in Dixie During the War* 



CHAPTER I. 

THE MAGNOLIA CADETvS. 

Notwithstanding- the restful sig-nification of "Ala- 
bama," the State bearing- that name had passed the 
ordinance of secession, and mingled her voice with 
those of other States which had previously taken steps 
in that direction. 

Then followed a call for a convention, having- in 
view the election of a President of a new Republic to 
take its place among- the nations of the earth, and to 
be known throughout the world as the Southern 
Confederacy. As an intensely interested spectator I 
was at that convention ; and will remember, to my 
djang day, that grand spectacle. Yea, that was a 
g-rand and solemn occasion — that of issuing- a mandate 
" Let there be another nation, and to all intents and 
purposes there was another nation." In the course of 
human events it requires centuries to evolve such moral 
courag-e and sublimity of thoug-ht and action ; and 
the proceeding's of that day will stand out in bold 
relief as the acme of patriotic greatness. 

Ah ! that scene at the capitol of the State of Ala- 
bama, when Jefferson Davis, the chosen leader of the 



18 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Southern people, took the oath of office and pledg^ed 
und34ng- fidelity to the best interests of his own sunny 
land. 

On that momentous occasion not a word was uttered 
denunciatory of the States we were seeking- to leave 
in their fancied superiority, and the g-reat concourse 
of people there assembled was too familiar with the 
history of the times to require recapitulation of the 
causes of the alienation which led by rapid ascent to 
the summit of discontent, and determination to no 
long"er submit to the domination of an enemy. 

That scene being- enacted as a preliminary, a call 
was made for Alabama's quota of volunteers to defend 
the principles enunciated and the interests involved. 

The Mag-nolia Cadets, under the leadership of Cap- 
tain N. H. R.* Dawson, of Selma, were among^ the first 
to respond. I accompanied my cousins of Alabama 
to see this company of noble, handsome young- men 
mustered into the military service of their countr}^ 
It was a beautiful sig-ht ! Wealthy, cultured young- 
g-entlemen voluntarily turning- their backs upon the 
luxuries and endearments of affluent homes, and ac- 
cepting- in lieu the privations and hardships of war- 
fare ; thereby illustrating- to the world that the conflict 
of arms consequent upon the secession was not to be 
" a rich man's war and a poor man's fig-ht." 

I saw them as they stood in line to receive the ele- 
g-ant silken banner, bearing the stars and bars of a 
new nation, made and presented to them by Miss Ella 
Todd and her sister, Mrs. Dr. White, of Lexing-ton, 
Kentucky, who were introduced to the audience by 
Captain Dawson as the sisters of Mrs. Abraham 



DURING THE WAU. 10 

Lincoln, the wife of the president of the United States. 

I was thus made aware that Mrs. Lincoln and heJ 
illustrious husband were Southerners. I have since 
been in the small, mud-chinked log" cabin in Eliza- 
bethtown, Kentucky, in which he was born, and in 
which his infancy and little boyhood were domiciled. 
Mrs. White had married an Alabamian, and as his 
wife became a citizen of his State. Her sister. Miss 
Todd, was visiting- her at the enactment of the 
scene described, and under like circumstances, also 
became a citizen of Alabama. She married the valiant 
g-entleman who introduced her to the public on that 
memorable occasion. 

I have soug-ht and obtained from Mrs. Mary 
Dawson Jordan, of Chattanooga, Tennessee, a 
daughter of Captain Jordan, a complete record of the 
names of the officers and members of this patriotic 
company of Alabama's noble sons — native and 
adopted — which I subjoin as an item of history that 
will be read with interest by all who revere the 
memory of the Lost Cause and its noble defenders. 

Muster Roll of the ''Magnolia Cadets.'' 

N. H. R. Dawson, Captain. 

(Enrolled for active service at Selma, Ala., on the 
26th day of April, 1861. Mustered into service on 
the 7th day of May, 1861, at Lynchburg, Va.) 

Commanded by Col. Ben Alston of the Fourth 
Alabama Regiment of Volunteers. 

1. N. H. R. Dawson, Captain. 

1. Shortbridge, Jr., Geo. D., 1st Lieutenant. 

2. McCraw, S. Newton, 2nd Lieutenant. 



20 LIFE IN DIXIE 

3. Wilson, John R. 3rd Lieutenant. 

1. Waddell, Bd. R., 1st Sergeant. 

2. Price, Alfred C, 2nd Sergeant. 

3. Daniel, LucianA., 3rd Sergeant. 

4. Goldsby, Boykin, 4tli Sergeant. 

1. Bell, Bush W., 1st Corporal. 

2. Garrett, Robert E., 2nd Corporal. 

3. Brown, James G., 3rd Corporal. 

4. Cohen, Lewis, 4th Corporal. 

1. Melton, George F., Musician. 

2. Marshall, Jacob, Musician. 

Privates. 

1. Adkins, Agrippa 20. Densler, John K. 

2. Adams, William S. 21. Donegay, James G. 

3. Avery, William C. 22. Friday, Hilliard J. 

4. Byrd, William G. 23. Friday, James L. 

5. Beattie, Thomas K. 24. Friday, John C. 

6. Briggs, Charles H. 25. Ford, Joseph H. 

7. Bohannon, Robert B. 26. Grice, Henry F. 

8. Baker, Eli W. 27. Haden, James G. 

9. Bradley, Hugh C. 28. Harrill, Thornton R. 

10. Cook, Thomas M. 29. Hannon, Wm. H., Sr. 

11. Cook, James W. 30. Hannon, Wm. H., Jr. 

12. Cook, Benson. 31. Hooks, William A. 

13. Caughtry, Joseph R. 32. Hodge, William L. 

14. Cole, George W. 33. Jones, William. 

15. Cleveland, George W. 34. Jordan, James M. 

16. Clevaland, Pulaski. 35. Jackson, Felix W. 

17. Cunningham, Frank M. 36. King, William R. 

18. Coursey, William W. 37. Kennedy, Arch. 

19. Daniel, John R. 38. Kennedy, George D. 



DURING THE WAR. 



21 



39. Lamson, Frank R. 62. 

40. Lane, William B. 63. 

41. Lowry, Uriah. 64. 

42. Lowry, William A. 65. 

43. Littleton, Thomas B. 66. 

44. Luske, John M. 67. 

45. Lamar, John H. 68. 

46. Mather, Thomas S. 69. 

47. Martin, James B. 70. 

48. May, SydM. 7L 

49. May, William V. 72. 

50. Melton, Thomas J. 73. 
5L Miller, Stephen J. 74. 

52. Mimms, Georg-e A. 75. 

53. Moody, William R. 76. 

54. Mosely, Andrew B. 77. 

55. McNeal, Georg-e S. 78. 

56. McKerning-, John W. 79. 

57. Overton, John B. 80. 

58. Overton, Thomas W. 81. 

59. O'Neal, William. 82. 

60. Paisley, Hug-h S. 83. 

61. Pryor, John W. 

Copied from the original Muster Roll of the Magnolia Cadets, owned by 
Henry R. Dawson, son of N. H. R. Dawson 



Pryor, Robert O. 
Peeples, Frank W. 
Raiford, William C. 
Reinhardt, Georg-e L. 
Robbins, John L. 
Rucker, Lindsay. 
Rucker, Henry. 
Shiner, David H. 
Stokes, William C. 
Stone, John W. 
Stewett, Mayor D. 
Turner, Daniel M. 
Thomas, Lewis. 
Tarver, Ben J. 
Taylor, William E. 
Terry, Thomas B. 
Thompson, John S. 
Thompson, William E. 
Ursory, Edward G. 
Vaug-hn, Turner P. 
Wrenn, Theodore J. 
Whallon, Daniel. 



22 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER 11. 

THK WAR KKCORD OF DEKAI.B COUNTY. 

DeKalb county, Georg-ia, of which Decatur is the 
county site, was among the first to enroll troops for 
Confederate service. The first volunteers from Deca- 
tur were James L. George, Hardy Randall, L. J. 
Winn and Beattie Wilson, who went with the Atlanta 
Greys the last of May, 1861. 

The first company from DeKalb county was that of 
Captain John W. Fowler. It was called the DeKalb 
Light Infantry, and was mustered into service in At- 
lanta, as part of the 7th Georgia Volunteers, and left 
for Virginia on the 1st of June, 1861. Those going 
from DeKalb county in this compan}^ were : First 
Lieutenant, John J. Powell ; Second Lieutenant, 
John M. Hawkins ; Third Lieutenant, James L. 
Wilson ; First Sergeant, M. L. Brown ; Second 
Sergeant, D. C. Morgan ; Third Sergeant, D. E. 
Jackson ; Fourth Sergeant, John W. Fowler, jr. ; Cor- 
porals— H. H. Norman, R. F. Davis, C. W. L. Powell ; 
Privates — W. W. Bradbury (afterwards captain), K. 
M. Chamberlain, W. W. Morgan, W. L. Herron, P. 
H. Pate, C. E. McCulloch, James W. McCulloch, L. 
C. Powell, H. G. Woodall, J. S. Woodall, A. W. 
Mashburn,.V. A. Wilson, W. J. Mason, J. V. Austin, 
W. M. Austin, John Eads, E. A. Davis, Dr. A. S. Ma- 
son, John W. Norman, E. L. Morton, Henry Gentry, 



DVBING THE WAR. 23 

W. M. Cochran, J. B. Cochran, James Hunter (pro- 
moted captain), W. W. Brimm, William Carroll, C. 
W. McAllister, J. O. McAllister, and many others from 
the county, making- it a full company. 

The second company from DeKalb was the Steph- 
ens Rifles, captain, L. J. Glenn. They went into 
Cobb's Leg-ion about Aug-ust, 1861. Dr. Liddell, 
Frank Herron, Norman Adams, John McCulloch, John 
J. McKoy, and some others, went from Decatur in 
this company. 

The third company was the Murphey Guards, cap- 
tain, John Y. Flowers. They came from the upper 
part of the county, near Doraville. This company 
was named in memory of Hon. Charles Murphey, of 
DeKalb county, a prominent lawyer and member of 
Cong-ress, but then recently deceased. The company 
had been uniformed by the people of the county, a 
larg-e sharg-e being- contributed by Mr. and Mrs. Mil- 
ton A. Candler, and Mr. and Mrs. Ezekiel Mason. 
Mrs. Candler, whose maiden name was Kliza Mur- 
phey, the only child of Charles Murphey, g-ave the 
banner, upon which was inscribed, "The God of Jacob 
is with us." 

The Fourth Company was The Bartow Aveng-ers, 
Captain William Wrig-ht, from the lower part of the 
county about South River. The Fifth Company, Cap- 
tain Rankin, was from Stone Mountain. These three 
last mentioned companies went into the 38th Georg-ia 
Reg-iment, in September, 1861, and belong-ed to the 
Virg-inia Arm}^ The Sixth Compan}-, Captain E. L. 
Morton's, entered service the last of Aug-ust, 1861, in 
the 36th Georg-ia Reg-iment, and was with the 



24 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

Western Army under Johnston. The Seventh Com- 
pany, the Fowler Guards, Captain Clay, went into the 
42nd Georgia Reg-iment in the early part of 1B62, and 
was also in the Western Army. 

There were several companies, mostly composed of 
DeKalb County men, that were made up and went 
from the camp of instruction near Decatur. Moses L. 
Brown was Captain of one, and L. D. Belisle of 
another. Besides the companies already named, all 
of which went into the infantry, there were many 
soldiers from DeKalb that went into the Cavalry and 
Artillery service of the regular army. 

In the year 1863, when Georgia was threatened by 
Rosecrans coming into the State on its northern bor- 
der, special troops were raised for its defence. Major 
General Howell Cobb commanded the division ; 
General Henr}^ R. Jackson one of the brigades. In 
Jackson's Brigade, in the 10th Georgia Regiment 
State Guards (Col. John J. Glenn and Lieutenant-Col- 
onel J. N. Glenn), we find Company A of Cavalry 
troops. Of this company Milton A. Candler had com- 
mand. These troops served through 1863 and 1864. 

In April, 1863, Paul P. Winn, now a Presbyterian 
minister, then a mere youth, went into the army in the 
45th Georgia Regiment, commanded by Col. Thomas 
J. Simmons. Other Decatur boys went into the 
service from other sections where the war found them 
located. Among these were Dr. James J. Winn, who 
enlisted at Clayton, Alabama, with the Barker Greys, 
and was in the battle of Bull Run. After a year or 
two he received a surgeon's commission, being the 
youngest surgeon in the army. 



DUBIKG THE WAB. 25 

John C. Kirkpatrick, just eig'hteen, went into the 
service from Aug-usta with the Og-lethorpe Infantry. 
With him were his cousin, William Dabney (now a 
Presbyterian minister in Virginia), and his friend, 
Frank Stone. This was in 1862, and John remained 
in the service until the close of the war, havino;- been 
in severe battles (for he was in Cleburne's Division), 
including- that of Jonesboro. In this eng-ag-ement 
were other Decatur bo^^s in other commands. Mr. 
John B. Swanton, but seventeen years old, was in that 
battle, and says that by his side stood, when mortally 
wounded, Franklin Williams, the brother of Mr. 
Hiram J. Williams. Says Mr. Swanton: " He was 
so near me I could have touched him with my hand." 
Three sons of Mrs. Martha Morg-an, and cousins of 
DeWitt Morg-an, were all in the service, Henry, Dan- 
iel, and Joseph Morg-an. Jesse Chewning- and Samuel 
Mann were in the r)4th Georg-ia. 

Josiah J. Willard, the only son of Mr. Levi Wil- 
lard, while a sprig-htly, active youth, was near- 
sig-hted. He had a position in the commissary depart- 
ment at Camp Randolph, near Decatur, and went with 
it to Macon, July 11th, 1864, and remained there until 
the place surrendered after the fall of Richmond. He, 
also, is mentioned in other sketches. 

There were also several companies of old men and 
boys who went into the State service when the last 
call for troops was made b}^ the Confederate g-overn- 
ment. 

Before the DeKalb soldiers g-o to meet the fortunes 
of war, let us recall some incidents that preceded their 
departure. On the northern side of the court-house 



26 LIFE IK DIXIE 

square there stood a larg-e building-, the residence of 
Mr. Ezekiel Mason. Here, day after day, a band of 
devoted women met to make the uniforms for the 
DeKalb Lig^ht Infantry. These uniforms had been 
cut by a tailor, but they were to be made by women's 
hands. Among- the leading and directing- spirits in 
this work were Mrs. Jonathan B. Wilson, Mrs. Jane 
Morg-an, Mrs. Ezekiel Mason, Mrs. Levi Willard, Miss 
Anna Davis, Mrs. James McCulloch, and Miss Lou 
Fowler. The most of this sewing- was done by hand. 

To the DeKalb Light Infantry, the day before its 
departure, a beautiful silken banner was given. The 
ladies of the village furnished the material. The ad- 
dress of presentation was made by Miss Mollie G. 
Brown. In September, of that same year, my sister 
was invited to present a banner to Captain William 
Wright's Company. Her modest little address was 
responded to in behalf of the companj- b}^ Rev. Mr. 
Mashburn, of the Methodist Church. In March, 1862, 
there was another banner presented from the piazza 
of "the Mason Corner"^ — this time to the Fowler 
Guards, by Miss Georgia Hoyle. This banner was 
made by the fair hands of Miss Anna K. Davis. By 
this time the spirit of independence of the outside 
world had begun to show itself in the Southern-made 
grey jeans of the soldiers, and in the homespun dress 
of Miss Hoyle. 

This banner, so skillfully made by Miss Anna 
Davis, had a circle of white stars upon a field of blue, 
and the usual bars of red and white — two broad red 
bars with a white one between. The banner of this 
pattern was known as the "stars and bars," and was 



DURING THE WATl. 27 

the first kind used by the Confederate States. In 
May, 1863, the Confederate Cong-ress adopted a 
National Flag-, which had a crimson field with white 
stars in a blue-grounded diag-onal cross, the remainder 
of the flag- being- white. But, when falling- limp 
around the staff, and only the white showing, it could 
easily be mistaken for a flag of truce ; therefore in 
March, 1865, the final change was made by putting a 
red bar across the end of the flag. 

But what of the fate of these gallant young men, 
going forth so full of hope and courage, with tender 
and loving farewells lingering in their hearts? 

Soon, ah ! so soon, some of them fell upon the 
crimson fields of Virginia. James L. George ("Jim- 
mie," as his friends lovingly called him) was killed in 
the first battle of Manassas. "Billy" Morgan died 
soon after the battle, and was buried with military 
honors in a private cemetery near Manassas. Two 
years after, his brother, De Witt Morgan, worn out 
in the siege of Vicksburg, was buried on an island in 
Mobile Bay. At the second battle of Manassas, 
James W. McCulloch and James L. Davis were 
both killed. Later on W. J. Mason, William Car- 
roll, John M. Eads, H. H. Norman, Billy Wilson, 
and Norman Adams, were numbered among the slain. 
Among the wounded were Henry Gentry, Mose 
Brown, John McCulloch, W. W. Brimm, Dave Chand- 
ler, Riley Lawhorn, and Bill Herring. 

A volume could easily be written concerning the 
bravery and the sufferings of the DeKalb county 
troops ; but I must forbear. Concerning Warren 
Morton, of the 36th Georgia Reo-iment, who went 



28 LIFE IN DIXIE 

into the service at the ag^e of fifteen, and suffered so 
severely, I will refer my readers to a sketch in the 
latter part of this book. Of William M. Durham, so 
young-, so g-allant, who enlisted in Company K., 42nd 
Georg-ia Reg"iment, much of interest will be found in 
another chapter. 

Among- the Decatur members of Cobb's Leg-ion 
was Mr. John J. McKoy, who went out in the 
Stephens Rifles when not more than nineteen years 
old. He was in the battle of Yorktown, Seven Pines, 
and in the Seven Da^^s Fig-ht around Richmond. 
Owing- to illness, and to business arising- from the 
attainment of his majorit^^ he came home in 1863, 
and, hiring- a substitute when the conscript law was 
passed, went to work at the Passport Of&ce in At- 
lanta. In this same year he was married to Miss 
Laura Williams of Decatur. Having- raised Company 
A., for the 64th Georg-ia Reg-iment, Mr. McKoy was 
with it when it was sent to Florida, and was in the 
battle of Olustee or Ocean Pond, in February 1864, 
where General Alfred H. Colquitt won the title of 
"The Hero of Olustee." Mr. McKoy remembers to 
have seen on that eventful day. Col. Georg-e W. Scott, 
then of Florida, but now of Decatur. At the battle 
of Olustee, Col. Scott was in command of a reg-iment 
of Cavalry. The banner of the reg-iment is now in 
possession of his daughter, Mrs. Thomas Cooper. 

The 64th Georg-ia was then sent to Virg-inia in 
General Wrig-ht's brig-ade. A few days after "The 
Mine Explosion," or undermining- of the Confederate 
works, an engag-ement occurred at Deep Bottom. 
Here, General Girardy, of Aug-usta, was killed, and 



DUIiING THE WAli. 29 

se\^eral hundred of the Confederates were captured, 
among- the number being- Mr. McKoy. This was in 
July, 1864. He was sent to Fort Delaware, where he 
remained in prison until the close of the war. Here 
he spent a whole winter without a fire, and was sub- 
ject to all that Fort Delaware meant. To escape the 
horrors of that prison, many of the two thousand offi- 
cers there confined, took the oath not to fight ag-ainst 
the United States. But Mr. McKoy and thirty-four 
others remained in prision, firm and loyal, even after 
the surrender, believing- and hoping, up to July, 1865, 
that the war would be carried on west of the Missis- 
sippi river. 

The soldiers who went to Virginia knew from 
their own experience the scenes of Manassas, Malvern 
Hill, Fort Harrison, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, 
Gettysburg and the Wilderness. Yet some of them 
were left to be surrendered by Lee at Appomatox 
Court House. The companies which were in the 
Western Army were in the leading battles of that 
Division, and were equall}^ brave and abiding in theii 
devotion to the cause. 

For many of the foregoing facts concerning the 
troops from DeKalb, I am greatly indebted to Mr. 
Robert F. Davis, who went with DeKalb's first com- 
pany, and who, after braving the perils of the war, 
came off unscathed. He still lives near Decatur, and 
is an elder in the Presbyterian Church. 

I greatly regret my inability, even if I had the 
space, to give the names of all the soldiers who went 
from DeKalb, and to tell of their deeds of bravery and 
endurance. It has not been intentional that many are 



30 LIFE IN DIXIE 

wholly omitted. It has been my privileg-e to see but 
one muster-roll of our county troops — that of Com- 
pany K, 38th Georg-ia Reg-iment, kindly furnished by 
Mr. F. L. Hudg-ins, of Clarkston, a brave soldier who 
was in command of the Company when Lee sur- 
rendered. This muster-roll shows that out of the 118 
nam^s, forty-six were killed (or died), and seventeen 
were wounded ; that its first Captain, William Wrig-ht, 
resig-ned, and that three other Captains by promotion 
were all killed, /. e., Gustin E. Goodwin, Georg-e W. 
Stubbs and R. H. Fletcher. Indeed, in nearly every 
instance, promotion in this Company meant death up- 
on the battle field. And can we wonder that both the 
commissioned and the noncommissioned fell, when 
some of the principal battles in which they were en- 
g-ag-ed bore such names as Cold Harbor, Malvern Hill, 
Second Manassas, Sharpsburg-, Fredericksburg-, Chan- 
cellorsville, Winchester, Gettysburg-, The Wilderness, 
Spottsylvania Courthouse, Mechanicsville, Fisher's 
Hill, Cedar Creek, Louise Courthouse and High 
Bridg-e ? 

In memory of the dead, for the sake of the living- 
and for the descendants of all mentioned therein, I 
copy the muster-roll of this company : 

Com f any /l"., 38th Georo^ia Regiment: 
Captain William Wright— resig-ned July, 1862. 
1st Lieutenant Julius J. Gober— Died July 26th, 1862. 
2nd Lieutenant Gustin E. Goodwin — Promoted cap- 
tain ; killed August 28th, 1862. 
3rd Lieutenant George W. Stubbs— Promoted captain; 
killed July 24th, 1864. 



DVIUNG THE WAR. 31 

1st Serg-eant John S. Johnston — Killed June 27th, 
1862. 

2nd Serg-eant W. R. Henry — Promoted to 1st Lieuten- 
ant ; lost a leg- December 13tli, 1862. 

3rd Serg-eant J. A. Maddox — Killed at Wilderness, 
May 5th, 1864. 

4th Sergeant F. L. Hudg-ins — Promoted 1st Sergeant; 
wounded at Malvern Hill ; shot through the body 
at Gettysburg. 

5th Sergeant E. H. C. Morris — Promoted 3rd Lieu- 
tenant ; killed at Second Manassas, August, 
1862. 

1st Corporal P. M. Gassaway — Killed at Second Ma- 
nassas, August, 1862. 

2nd Corporal J. M. Walker — Died in camp. 

3rd Corporal W. A. Ward — Died in camp. 

4th Corporal James L. Anderson — Wounded at Ma- 
nassas and Spottsylvania court house. 

John H. Akers — Killed at Second Manassas, 1862. 

A. W. Allman— Killed at Cedar Creek, October 19th, 
1864. 

John Adams — Died in camp. 

Knos Adams — 

Isaac W. Awtry — 

W. A. Awtry— 

H. V. Bayne — Disabled by gunshot wound. Still 
living. 

Allen Brown — 

Lewis Brown — 

Killis Brown — 

William M. Brooks— 

H. M, Burdett— 



32 LIFE IN DIXIE 

J. S. Burdett— 

John S. Boyd- 
James E. Ball— Killed at Gett^^sburg", July, 1863. 

W. H. Brisendine — 

L. R. Bailey — Transferred to Cobb's Leg-ion. 

John K. J. Collier- 
James Collier— Died at Charlottesville, Va., 1862. 

Z. J. Cowan — 

J. J. Cowan — 

G. G. Cook- 
James E. Chandler— Killed at Sharpsburg-, Md., 
September 17th, 1862. 

W. B. Chandler— Died in camp, May 31st, 1863. 

John W. Chandler— Killed at Second Manassas, Au 
g-ust, 1862. 

W. A. Childress — A physician in Atlanta. 

J. H. Childers— 

J. M. Dowis — Killed at Coal Harbor, June, 27th, 
1862. 

W. H. Ellis- 
John Eunis — 

R. H. Fletcher — Promoted Captain ; killed in 1865. 

A. M. Gentry— Died at Savannah in 1862. 

W. F. Goodwin — Promoted 3rd Lieutenant ; killed at 
Gettysburg in 1863. 

C. H. Goodwin— Killed at Coal Harbor. 

Joseph Grog-an — 

J. H. Grog-an — 

J. D. Grog-an — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, Sep- 
tember 17th, 1862. 

Gideon Grog-an — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, 
September 17th, 1862. 



DUBING THE WAR. 33 

James H. Gasawa}'— Disabled b}' gunshot. 

William Gasawa}- — Disabled by g-unshot. 

John Gasawaj — Discharg-ed. 

W. L. Goss— 

P. L. Guess — Transferred to the 9th Georgia Artillery 
Battalion. 

H. h. Head— 

J. L. Henry— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1802. 

W. B. Heldebrand — Died recently. 

H. H. Hornbuckle— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 
1862. 

Joshua Hammond— Killed at Sharpsburg, September 
17th, 1862. 

R. F. Jones— Killed at Coal Harbor. 

J. W. Jones — Disabled by g-unshot. 

C. S. Jones — Killed in Richmond. 

R. D. P. Jones — Disabled by gunshot. 

J. M. Jones — 

J. H. Jones — Disabled by g-unshot. 

James Jones — 

John F. Kelley — 

John H. Kelley— 

James Kelley — 

W. J. Little — Disabled by g-unshot. 

Georg-e Lee — Died in camp. 

A. J. Lee — Discharg-ed, 

Wiley Mang-hon — 

J. R.^ Mitchell— Killed December 13th, 1862, at Fred- 
ericksburg-. 

W. G. Mitchell— Disabled by g-unshot. 

K. J. Mitchell— 



34 LIFE IN DIXIE 

W. R. Mag-uire — Disabled bj gunshot. 
W. A. Morg-an — 

B. S. McClaiti — Died in camp. 

John W. Nash— Killed December 13th, 1862, at Fred- 
ericksburg". 

David N. Fair— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 1862. 

W. B. Owen— 

J. J. Pruett — Discharg-ed. 

John W. Phillips— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 
1862. 

John B. Thompson — 

Will Thompson — 

W. M. Richardson — Disabled at Second Manassas. 

J. S. Richardson— Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 
1862. 

D. D. Richardson — Died at Hanover Junction, 1862. 

A. W. Stowers — 

W. A. Smith— 

J. M. Summey — Shot throug-h at Coal Harbor. 

S. J. Summey — Killed at Winchester, Va., June 13th, 
1863. 

James Toney — Musician. 

C. W. Toney— Musician. 

M. J. Tweedle — Wounded at Winchester, Va., Sep- 
tember 19th, 1864. 

S. J. Thomas— 

R. L. Vaug-hn — Died at Savannah, Ga. 

J. S. Vaug-hn — Wounded eig-ht times at Coal Harbor. 

W. T. Vaug-hn — Had both hands blown off. 

J. C. Wig-g-ins — Promoted Second Lieutenant ; killed 
in June, 1864. ^ 

J. M. Wig-g-ins — 



DURING THE WAR. 35 

R. W. Wig-g-ins — Killed at Petersburg-, Va., March 

27tli, 1865. 
K. W. Wiggins — Killed at Sharpsburg-, Maryland, 

September 17th, 1862. 
G. W. Wiggins— 
M. O. Wiggins— Disabled at Cedar Creek, October 

19th, 1864. 
G. W. Wade— Musician. 

E. D. Wade— 

F. M. Wade— 

B. L. Wilson^Killed at Marie's Heig-hts, May 4th, 

1863. 
W. A. Wright— 
W. R. Wood- 
Amos Wheeler — Killed at Spottsjdvania, May 12th, 

1864. 
J. H. Wilson— Killed at Gettysburg, July 1st, 1863. 
Jordan Wilson — Killed at Coal Harbor, June 27th, 

1862. 



3(i LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTKR III. 

LABOR'S OF LOVE. 
Musical — Decatur. 

To a woman who lives and moves and has her 
being- in the past, an invocation to time to "turn 
backward in its flight," would seem surperfluous. The 
scenes of other years being- ever present, it would also 
seem that time, as a loving- father, would linger fondly 
around her with panaceas for decay, mental and phys- 
ical ; that her heart would never g-row old, and her 
person never lose the attractions of youth ; but, in the 
economy of Him who doeth all thing-s well, such is not 
the decree reg-arding aug-ht that is mortal. And 
when the ravag-es incident to one's career have de- 
stroyed personal charm, and divested the mind of 
sparkling- gem, the soul yearns for the protection of 
childhood and the companionship of youth. Scenes 
of the past, though dyed with " the blood of martyrs," 
are ever passing- in kaleidoscopic beauty before the 
mind's eye, and tones too sweet for mortal ear are ever 
thrilling- the heart with strange, sweet, expectant 
pleasure. This train of reflection, only far more elab- 
orate, seizes for its guiding star, on this occasion, a 
scene which at the time of its enactment was indelibly 
impressed upon my mind, and left living, glowing 
tints, illuming my pathway through subsequent 
life ; a scene in which lovely girlhood, arrayed in pure 



DUEIXG THE WAR. 37 

white robes, lent a helping- hand in the important 
work of suppljdng* our soldiers with comforts, all the 
more appreciated because of the source from which 
emanating-. With closed eyes, I see it now and listen 
to its enchanting- melody. To render it more realistic 
than could be done by any description of mine, I sub- 
join a copy of the " Prog-ramme," the orig-inal of 
which I have preserved : 

GRAND MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT ! 

RELIEF FUND 

FOR OUR SOLDIERS, 

THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1862, 

AT THE COURTHOUSE. 

By the ladies of Decatur, Georg-ia, assisted by Wil- 
liam H. Barnes, Colonel Thomas F. Lowe, Professor 
Hanlon, W. A. Haynes, R. O. Haynes, Dr. Geutebruck 
and Dr. Warmouth, of Atlanta. 

PROGRAMME. 
Part I. 

1. Opening- Chorus — Company. 

2. Piano Duet — "March from Norma" — Miss Geor- 
g-ia Hoyle and Miss Missouri Stokes. 

3. Solo— "Roy Neil"— Mrs. Robert Alston. 

4. Quartette — Atlanta Amateurs. 

5. "Tell Me, Ye Wing-ed Winds "—Company. 

6. " Our Way Across the Sea" — Miss G. Hoyle and 
Professor Hanlon. 



38 LIFE IX DIXIE 

7. March — Piano Duet — Miss Laura Williams and 
Miss Fredonia Hojle. 

8. Solo — Professor Hanlon. 

9. Comic Song- — W. H. Barnes. 

10. Violin Solo — Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 

11. Solo— Dr. Warmouth. 

12. "When Nig-ht Comes O'er the Plain"— Miss 
M. Stokes and Professor Hanlon. 

13. "The Mother's Farewell "—Mrs. Mag-gie Bene- 
dict. 

Part II. 

1. Chorus — " Awa}' to the Prairie " — Company. 

2. Piano Solo— Miss G. Hoyle. 

3. Song- — Atlanta Amateurs. 

4. Coquette Polka — Misses Hoyle and Stokes. 

5. Chorus — ^"Let us Live with a Hope" — Compan3\ 

6. "Mountain Bug-le " — Miss M. Stokes and Com- 
pany. 

7. "Mazurka des Traineaux" — Piano Duet — Misses 
Hoyle and Stokes. 

8. Shiloh Retreat— Violin— Colonel Thomas F. 
Lowe. 

Concluding- with the Battle Song- : "Cheer, Boys, 
Cheer"— W. H. Barnes. 

Tickets, 50c. Children and Servants, half price. 

Doors open 7:30 o'clock. Commence at 8:15 o'clock. 



Atlanta Intelligencer Power Print. 



DURING THE WAR. 30 

LABORS OF LOVE. 
Musical — Atlanta. 

The citizens of Decatur were always invited to en- 
tertainments, social, literary, and musical, in Atlanta, 
that had in view the interest, pleasure or comfort of 
our soldiers ; therefore the invitation accompan34ng 
the following- programme received ready response : 

TWELFTH MUSICAL SOIREE 

—of the— 

ATLANTA AMATEURS, 

Monda}^ evening", June 24, 1861, 

For the Benefit of 

ATLANTA VOLUNTEERS, 

Captain Woddail, 
and the 
CONFEDERATE CONTINENTALS, 

Captain Seag"o, 
Who Are Going- to Defend Our Land. 

Let all attend and pay a parting- tribute to our brave 
soldiers. 

PROGRAMME. 

Part I. 

1. We Come Ag-ain — (Orig-inal) — Company. 

2. Dreams — (A Reverie) — Miss J. E. Whitney. 

3. Violin Solo— (Hash)— Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 

4. "Not for Gold or Precious Stones" — Miss R. J. 
Hale. 



40 LIFE IN DIXIE 

5. Yankee Doodle — According- to W. A. Hajnes. 

6. Dixie Variations — Mrs. W. T. Farrar. 

7. "Two Merry Alpine Maids" — Misses M." F. 
and J. E. Whitney. 

8. "When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home" — Misses 
Sasseen and Judson. 

9. " Root Hog- or Die "— W. H. Barnes. 
Instrumental Trio, "La Fille du Regiment "^ — 

Messrs. Schoen and Heindl. Vermicelli, (Variations) 
— W. H. Barnes and Openheimer. 

Part H. 

. 1. " Our Southern Land "— C. P. Haynes and Com- 
pany. 

2. "Throug-h Meadows Green "—Miss M. F. 
Whitney.* 

3. Solo— Thomas D. Wright. 

4. "Home, Sweet Home "—Miss R. J. Hale. 

5. Violin Exemplification — Col. Thomas F. Lowe. 

6. " Happy Days of Yore " — Mrs. Hibler. 

7. Quartette— (or ig-inal) — Misses Whitney, Mes- 
srs. Barnes and Haynes. 

8. "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep" — Prof. 
Hanlon. Encore^Ballad. 

9. "I Come, I Come" — Misses Sasseen, Westmore- 
land and Sims. 

The whole to conclude with the grand original. 



*This lady, Miss "Frank" Whitney, is now the wife of Mr. Charles W, 
Hubner, the well-known Atlanta poet. 



nVBlNG THE WAIi. 41 

TABLEAU, 

(In Two Parts). 

The Women and Children of Dixie Rejoicing- Over the 
Success of the Confederate Banner. 

Scene 1. The Children of Dixie. 

Scene 2. The Women— The Soldiers— Our Flag-— 
Brilliant Illumination. 

Doors open at half past 7 o'clock. Curtain will 
rise at half past 8 o'clock. 

Tickets, Fifty Cents. Ushers will be on hand to 
seat audience. 

W. H. BARNES, Manag-er. 



t 



42 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTKR IV. 

LABORS OF LOVE. 

Knitting and Sewing, and Writing Letters to " Our Soldiers." 

A patriotic co-operation between the citizens of 
Decatur and Atlanta soon sprang up, and in that, 
as in all things else, a social and friendl}^ inter- 
change of thought and feeling and deed existed ; 
and we were never so pleased as when aiding 
each other in the preparation of clothing and 
edibles for "our soldiers," or in some way con- 
tributing to their comfort. 

Many of us who had nev^er learned to sew 
became expert handlers of the needle, and vied 
with each other in producing well-made garments ; 
and I became a veritable knitting machine. Be- 
sides the discharge of many duties incident to 
the times and tending to useful results, I knitted 
a sock a da}^ long and large, and not coarse, 
many days in succession. At the midnight hour 
the weird click of knitting needles chasing each 
other round and round in the formation of these 
useful garments for the nether limbs of "our boys," 
was no unusual sound ; and tears and orisons 
blended with woof and warp and melancholy sighs. 
For at that dark hour, when other sounds were 
shut out, we dared to listen with bated breath to 
" the still, small voice" that whispered in no un- 
mistakab^^^nguage suggestions which w^ould 



>j||^] 



nUBING THE WAR. 43 

have been rebuked in the glare of the noonday 
sun. 

No mother nor sister nor wife nor aunt of a 
Confederate soldier, need be told what were the 
depressing- suggestions of that " still, small voice" 
on divers occasions. 

When the knitting of a dozen pairs of socks 
was completed, they were washed, ironed and 
neatly folded by one of our faithful negro wo- 
men, and I then resumed the work of preparing 
them for their destination. Each pair formed a 
distinct package. Usually a pretty necktie, a pair 
of gloves, a handkerchief and letter, deposited in 
one of the socks, enlarged the package. When all 
was ready, a card bearing the name of the giver, 
and a request to "inquire within," was tacked on 
to each package. And then these twelve pack- 
ages were formed into a bundle, and addressed to 
an officer in command of some company chosen to 
be the recipient of the contents. 

I will give a glimpse of the interior of my 
letters to our boys. These letters were written 
for their spiritual edification, their mental im- 
provement and their amusement. 

" Never saw I the righteous forsaken." 

" Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 

The dark un fathomed caves of ocean bear; 
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
p. S. — " Apples are good but peaches are better: 

If you love me, you will write me a le^Mt'' — M. 



44 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. 

" If in the early morn of life, 

You give yourself to God, 
He'll stand by you 'mid earthly strife. 

And spare the chast'ning rod." — 
P. S. — "Roses are red and violets blue, 

Sugar is sweet and so are you." — M. 

" Love thy neighbor as thyself." 

" May every joy that earth can give 

Around thee brightly shine; 
Remote from sorrow may you live. 
And all of heaven be thine."— 
P. S.— Remember me when this you see. 

Though many miles apart we be. — M 

"Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore love is 
the fulfillment of the law." 

" This above all — to thine own self be true, 

And it must follow as night the day. 
Thou canst not then be false to any one." 
P. S. — "Sure as the vine twines round the stump. 
You are my darling sugar lump." — M. 

• " The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us, therefore, 
cast off the works of darkness and let us put on the armour of 
light." 

" As for my life, it is but short. 

When I shall be no more ; 
To part with life I am content, 

As any heretofore. 
Therefore, good people, all take heed. 

This warning take by me— 
AcflM^ding to the lives you lead, 






arded you shall be." 



DUBING THE WAII. 45 

P^ S.— " My pen is bad, my ink is pale, 

My love for you shall never fail."— M. 

"Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the 
children of God." 

" The harp that once through Tara's halls 
The soul of music shed, 
Now hangs as mute on Tara's wall, 
As if that soul were fled. 
So sleeps the pride of former days, 
So glory's thrill is o'er ; 
And hearts that once beat high for praise 

Now feel that pulse no more. 
No more to chiefs and ladies bright 

The harp of Tara swells ; 
The chord alone that breaks at night 

Its tale of ruin tells. 
Thus Freedom, now so seldom wakes, 

The only throb she gives 
Is when some heart indignant breaks 
To show that still she lives."— 

p. s.— " My love for you will ever flow. 

Like water down a cotton row."— M 

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof ; 
the world and they that dwell therein. 

" For He hath founded it upon the seas, and estab- 
lished it upon the floods. 

"Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who 
shall stand in his holy place ? 

" He that hath clean hands and a pure heart ; who 
hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor sworn de- 
ceitfully." 

" Know thyself, presume not God to scan. 
The proper study of mankind is man." 



46 JAFE IX DIXIE 

P. S. — "Round as the ring- that has no end, 

Is my love for you, my own sweet friend." — M. 

"God is love." 

" Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth. 

Fooled by those rebel powers that there array. 
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, 

Painting- thy outward walls so costly gay ? 
Why so larg-e cost, having so short a lease, 

Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? 
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 

Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end '?" 
P. S. — " If you love me as I love you, 

No knife can cut our love in two." — M. 

"But this I say, He that soweth sparing-lj shall 
reap also sparing-h^ ; and he which soweth bountifull}^ 
shall reap also bountifulh\ Every man according- as 
he purposeth in his heart, so let him g^ive, not g-rudg-- 
ing-lj, or of necessity ; for God loveth a cheerful 
g-iver." 

"Before Jehovah's awful throne 
Ye nations bow with sacred joy ; 
Know that the Lord is God alone ; 
He can create and He destroy." 
P. S. — " Above, below, in ocean, earth and skies, 

Nothing's so pretty as your blue eyes." — M. 

" I am come a lig^ht into the world, that whosoever 
believeth on Me should not abide in darkness." 

" And neither the angels in heaven above. 
Nor the demons down under the sea, 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee." 
P. S. — ''Remember me I Remember me I 

When this you see — Remember me !"— M. 



BUBIXG THE WAE. 47 

" The Lord shall command the blessing- upon thee 
in the storehouses, and in all that thou settest thine 
hand unto." 

" Lives of great men all remind us, 
We can make our lives sublime, 
And departing-, leave behind us, 

Footprints on the sands of Time." 
P. S. — " Remember well and bear in mind, 
A pretty girl's not hard to find ; 
But when you find one nice and Gay 
Hold on to her both night and day.— M. 

" He that covereth his sins shall not prosper ; but 
whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have 
mercy." 

"I'd give my life to know thy art. 

Sweet, simple, and divine ; 
I'd give this world to melt one heart. 

As thou hast melted mine." — Mary. 
P. S. — " As the earth trots round the sun. 

My love for you will ever run." — M. 



48 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER V. 

THK THIRD MARYLAND ARTII.I.ERY. 
Some Old Songs. 

At some time in 1863, it was my privileg-e to meet 
a g-allant band of men whose faith in the justice of 
our cause was so strong- that they were constrained to 
turn their faces Southward and imperil their lives in 
its defence. These men represented the highest type 
of manhood in Ms^rjlund. 

Sickness entered their camp, and the good ladies of 
Decatur insisted upon providing- the comforts of home 
for the sick and wounded. Those to whom it was my 
privileg-e to minister belong-ed to the Third Maryland 
Artillery, under command of Captain John B. 
Rowan.* 

Among- them was one whose appreciation of kind- 
ness shown him ripened into an undying- friendship, 
Captain W. L. Ritter, a devoted Christian gentleman, 
and now an elder in Doctor LeFevre's Church, Balti- 
more. 

His fondness for that beautiful Southern song, by 
James R. Randall, entitled "Maryland, My Mary- 
land !" was truly pathetic. 

I subjoin the words to stir up the souls of our peo- 
ple by way of remembrance. 



*This brave officer was killed near Nashville, Tennessee, Dec. 16th, 1864. 



DURING THE WATt. 49 

MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND. 

The despot's heel is on thy shore, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
His touch is on thy temple door, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Aveng-e the patriotic gore, 
That flowed the streets of Baltimore, 
And be the battle-queen of yore, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Hark to a wand'ring- son's appeal, 

Maryland, My Maryland I 
My mother state, to thee I kneel, 

Maryland, My Maryland I 
For life and death, for woe and weal. 
Thy peerless chivalry reveal. 
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Thou wilt not cower in the dust, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Thy beaming- sword shall never rust, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Remember Carroll's sacred trust, 
Remember Howard's warlike thrust. 
And all thy slumberers with the just, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Come, 'tis the red dawn of the day, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Come with thy panoplied array, 

. Maryland, My Maryland. 
With Ring-old's spirit for the fray. 
With Watson's blood at Monterey, 
With fearless Lowe and dashing- May : 
Maryland, My Maryland. 

Dear Mother! burst thy tyrant's chain, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Virgfinia should not call in vain, 



50 LIFE IX DIXIE 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
She meets her sisters on the plain, 
"Sic Semper," 'tis the proud refrain 
That baffles minions back again, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Gomel for thy dalliance does thee wrong, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Come to thy own heroic throng, 
That stalks with liberty along, 
And give a new Key to thy song, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

I see the blush upon thy cheek, 

Maryland, My Maryland I 
But thou wast ever bravely meek, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
But, lo! the e surges forth a shriek, 
From hill to hill, from creek to creek, 
Potomac calls to Chesapeake, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Thou wilt not crook to his control, 
' Maryland, My Maryland. 

Better the fire upon thee roll. 
Better the shot, the blade, the bowl. 
Than crucifixion of the soul, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
I hear the distant thunder hum, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
The Old Line bugle, fife and drum, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb — 
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum; 
She breathes! She burns! She'll come, she'll come! 

Maryland, My Maryland. 



nUBIXG THE WAR. 51 

An additional verse as sung- by Mrs. Jessie Clark, 
of Crisp's Co., Friday nig-ht, Sept. 12tli, 1862. 

HarkI tis the cannon's deaf ning- roar, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Old Stonewall's on thy hallow'd shore, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Methinks I hear the loud huzza 
Ring through the streets of Baltimore — 
Slaves no longer — free once more 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

There were other song-s sung- in those da^^s. Some 
of the most popular were "Bonnie Blue Flag-," 
"Dixie," "Bob Roebuck is my Soldier Boy," "Who 
will Care for Mother Now?" "Her Brig-ht Smile 
Haunts me Still," "Let me Kiss Him for his Mother," 
"All Quiet Along- the Potomac To-Nig-ht," "Rock me 
to Sleep, Mother," "When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home," 
"Just Before the Battle, Mother." In a collection of 
old music, now never played, there lie before me copies 
of these song-s. They were published in various 
Southern cities on paper not firm and smooth, but 
rather thin and coarse, but quite presentable. What 
memories these song's awake ! Where, oh where, are 
those who sang- them over thirty years ag-o ! Who of 
the sing-ers are now living- ? How many have gone to 
the Eternal Shore ? 



52 LIFE IX DIXIE 



CHAPTER VI. 

A DARING AND UNIQUE CHASE- 

The Capture and Re-capture of the Railroad Eng-ine, "The 
"General." 

In the early spring- of 1862, there occurred an epi- 
sode of the war which, up to that date, was the most 
exciting- that had happened in our immediate section. 
The story has often been told ; but instead of relying- 
upon my memory, I will condense from the written 
statement of Mr. Anthony Murphy, of Atlanta, Geor- 
g-ia, who was one of the principal actors in the chase. 

Mr. Murphy beg-ins his narrative by saying: "On 
Saturday morning-, April 12th, 1862, about 4 o'clock, 
I went aboard a passeng-er train that started then for 
Chattanoog-a, Tennessee. My business that day was 
to examine an eng-ine that furnished power to cut 
wood and pump water for the locomotives at AUatoona, 
a station forty miles from Atlanta. As foreman of 
machine and motive power, it became my duty to g-o 
that morning-. This train was in charg-e of Kng-ineer 
Jeff Cain, and Conductor W. A. Fuller. It was known 
as a freig-ht and passeng-er train. The train arrived in 
Marietta, twenty miles from Atlanta, shortly after 
daylig-ht. I stepped from the coach and noticed a 
number of men g-etting- on the car forward of the one 
I rode in. They were dressed like citizens from the 
countrj^, and I supposed they were volunteers for the 



JJURING THE WAR. 53 

army, going- to Big Shanty, now known as Kennesaw, 
a station about eighteen miles from Marietta, where 
troops were organized and forwarded to the Confed- 
erate army in Virginia and other points. At this sta- 
tion the train stopped for breakfast, and, as the en- 
gineer, conductor, myself and other passengers went 
to get our meals, no one was left in charge of the loco- 
motive. I had about finished, when I heard a noise 
as if steam were escaping. Looking through a win- 
dow I saw the cars move, saw the engineer and fire- 
man at the table, and said to them : 'Some one is 
moving your engine.' By this time I was at the front 
door, and saw that the train was divided and passing 

out of sight." 

Mr. Murphy, the conductor, and the engineer then 
held a brief consultation. He asked about the men 
who got on at Marietta (who afterwards proved to be 
a Federal raiding party, Andrews and his men), and 
remarked : " They were the men who took the engine 
and three cars." At the time he thought they were 
Confederate deserters, who would run the engine as 
far as it would have steam to run, and then abandon 
it. Mr. Murphy and his two comrades concluded that 
it* was their duty to proceed after them. A Mr. Ken- 
drick, connected with the railroad, coming up, they 
requested him to go on horseback to Marietta, the 
nearest telegraph station, and communicate with the 
superintendent at Atlanta, while they "put out on 
foot after a locomotive under steam." Knowing they 
would reach a squad of track-hands somewhere on the 
line they had some hope, and they did, in a few miles, 
meet a car and hands near Moon's Station, about two 



54 LIFE IX DIXIE 

miles from Big- Shanty. The}^ pressed the car, and 
two hands to propel it, which propelling- was done b}^ 
poles pressed ag-ainst the ties or ground, and not by a 
crank. Soon thej reached a pile of cross-ties on the 
track, and found the teleg-raph wire cut. Clearing- off 
the ties, they pressed on until they reached Acworth 
Station, six miles from Big- Shant}^ There thej 
learned that the train they were pursuing- had stopped 
some distance from the depot, and having- been care- 
fully examined by its eng-ineer, had moved off at 
a rapid rate. This satisfied the pursuers that the 
capturers of the eng-ine "meant something- more than 
deserters would attempt ;" and then they " thoug-ht of 
enemies from the Federal arm3^" Says the narrator : 
" We moved on to Allatoona. At this place we re- 
ceived two old g-uns, one for Puller, and one for the 
writer. I really did not know how long- they had been' 
loaded, nor do I yet, for we never fired them. These 
were the only arms on our eng-ine during- our chase. 
Two citizens went along- from here, which made about 
seven men on our little pole-car. As we proceeded 
toward Ktowah, we moved rapidly, being- down g-rade, 
when suddenly we beheld an open place in the track. 
A piece of rail had been taken up by the raiders. Hav- 
ing- no brake, we could not hold our car in check, and 
plung-ed into this g"ap, turning- over with all hands 
except Fuller and myself, who jumped before the car 
left the track. The little car was put on ag-ain, and 
the poling man sent back to the next track-gang to 
have repairs made for following trains." 

Arriving at Ktowah, the pursuers found the engine 
"Yonah," used by the Cooper Iron Company, and 



DURING THE WAR. 55 

pressed it into service. They got an open car, and 
stocked it with rails, spikes and tools, and moved on 
to Cartersville. Passing- on to Rogers' Station, they 
learned that the raiders had stopped there for wood 
and water, telling Mr. Rogers that they were under 
military orders, and that the engine crew proper were 
coming on behind. At Kingston the raiders had told 
that they were carrying ammunition to General 
Beauregard, on the line of the Memphis and Charles- 
ton Railroad, near Huntsville, Alabama. At this 
point the " Yonah" was sent back to Ktowah, and the 
supply car of the pursuers coupled to the engine 
"New York." But at Kingston the Rome Railroad 
connects with the Western & Atlantic road, and the 
Rome engine and train were in the way. Instead of 
clearing the track for the "New York," the crowd at 
the Kingston depot, having learned the news, took 
possession of the Rome engine and some cars attached, 
and pulled out for the chase, which compelled Mr. 
Murphy and his friends to abandon their outfit and 
run to get on the same train. A few miles were 
made, when they found a pile of cross-ties on the 
rails, and the telegraph wires cut. Clearing the 
track they moved on, when they encountered another 
gap. Here Messrs. Murphy and Fuller, believing 
that they would meet the engine " Texas " with a 
freight train, left the obstructed train and pressed on 
again on foot, advising the crowd to return, which 
they did. The pursuers met the " Texas" two miles 
from Adairsville, and, motioning the engineer to 
stop, they went aboard and turned him back. At 
Adairsville thev learned that Andrews had not been 



56 LIFE IN DIXIE 

long g^one. Says the narrator : " About three miles 
from Calhoun we came in sig-ht for the first time of 
the captured engine, and three freight cars. They 
had stopped to remove another rail, and were in the act 
of trying to get it out when we came in sight. * * * 
As we reached them, they cut loose one car and 
started again. We coupled this car to our engine, 
and moved after them. * * * From Resaca to Tilton - 
the road was very crooked, and we had to move 
cautiously. The distance between us was short. * * * 
I feared ambushing by Andrews — reversing the en- 
gine and starting it back under an open throttle 
valve. * * * To prevent us closing in on them, the 
end of the box car was broken out, and from this they 
threw cross-ties on the track to check our speed and 
probably derail us. * * * I had a long bar fastened 
to the brake wheel of the tender to give power so that 
four men could use it to help check and stop the en- 
gine suddenly. I also stood by the reverse lever to 
aid the engineer to reverse his engine, which he had 
to do many times to avoid the cross-ties. 

"Passing through and beyond Tilton, we again 
came in sight. At this point the road has a straight 
stretch of over a mile. A short distance from Tilton 
and just as we rounded the curve, ' The General ' with 
the raiders was rounding another curve, leaving the 
straight line, giving us a fine view for some distance 
across the angle. * * * The fastest run was made at 
this point. * * * I imagine now, as I write this, I see 
the two great locomotives with their human freight 
speeding on, one trying to escape, the other endeavor- 
ing to overtake, and if such had happened none might 



nUBING THE WAR. 57 

have been left to g-ive the particulars of that exciting- 
and daring- undertaking-. The chances of battle were 
certainly against us if Andrews had attempted fig-ht." 
Just beyond Dalton the pursuers found the tele- 
g-raph wire cut. On reaching- the "tunnel," they 
were satisfied that Andrews was short of wood, or the 
tunnel would not have been so clear of smoke. Pass- 
ing through the tunnel they kept on, and beyond 
Ringgold, about two miles, the captors left "The 
General" and made for the woods. The pursuers 
were in sight of them. Mr. Fuller and others started 
after the raiders. Mr. Murphy went on the engine to 
examine the cause of the stop. He found no wood in 
the furnace, but plenty of water in the boiler. Says 
Mr. Murphy: "I took charge of the engine, 'General,' 
had it placed on the side-track, and waited for the 
first train from Chattanooga to Atlanta. I reached 
Ringgold about dark. I went aboard, and reaching 
Dalton, the first telegraph station, I sent the first 
news of our chase and re-capture of the 'General' to 
Atlanta." 



58 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER VII. 

Coming Home from Camp Chase — The Faithful Servant's 
Gift — A Glimpse of Confederate Braves. 

"A letter from Marse Thomie,'' said our mail car- 
rier, Toby, as he g"ot in speaking- distance on his re- 
turn from the post office. 

"What makes jou think so ?'' I said, excitedly. 

"I know his hand-write, and this is it," selecting- a 
letter from a large packag-e and handing- it to me. The 
very first g-limpse of the superscription assured me of 
his confident assertion. 

The letter was addressed to our mother, and bore a 
United States postag-e stamp, and the beloved sig-na- 
ture of her only son, Thomas J. Stokes. A thrill of 
g-ratitude and joy filled our hearts too full for utter- 
ance, as we read : 

"My Dear Mother : I have learned that the sol- 
diers of the 10th Texas Infantry will be exchang-ed 
for the United States troops very soon, perhaps to- 
morrow; and then, what happiness will be mine ! I 
can scarcely wait its realization. A visit home, a 
mother's embrace and kiss, the heart-felt manifesta- 
tions of the love of two sisters, and the joy and g-lad 
expression of faithful servants. I may brings several 
friends with me, whom I know 3^ou will welcome, both 
for my sake and theirs— they are valiant defenders of 
the cause we love. Adieu, dear mother, and sisters, 
until I see you at home, 'home, sweet home.' " 



DURING THE WAB. 59 

"Thomie is coming- home!" " Thomie Stokes is 
coming- home !" was the g-lad announcement of 
mother, sisters, and friends ; and the servants took 
up the intellig-ence, and told everybody that Marse 
Thomie was coming- home, and was going to 
bring- some soldiers with him. 

Another day dawned and love's labor commenced 
in earnest. Doors were opened, and rooms ventila- 
ted : bed-clothing- aired and sunned, and dusting- 
brushes and brooms in willing- hands removed 
every particle of that much dreaded material of 
which man in all his glory, or ig-nominy, was 
created. Furniture and picture frames were polished 
and artistically arranged. And we beheld the 
work of the first day, and it was good. 

When another day dawned we were up with 
the lark, and his matin notes found responsive 
melody in our hearts, the sweet refrain of which 
was, "Thomie is coming-" — the soldier son and 
brother. Lig-ht bread and rolls, rusks and pies, 
cakes, etc., etc., were baked, and sweetmeats pre- 
pared, and another day's work was ended and 
pronounced satisfactory. 

The third day, for a g-enerous bonus, "Uncle 
Mack's" services were secured, and a fine pig- was 
slaug-htered and prepared for the oven, and also 
a couple of young- hens, and many other luxuries 
too numerous to mention. 

When all was ready for the feast of thanks- 
g-iving- for the return of the loved one, the waiting- 
seemed interminable. There was pathos in every 
look, tone, and act of our mother — the ling-ering- 



60 LIFE IN DIXIE 

look at the calendar, the frequent g-lance at the 
clock, told that the days were counted, yea, that 
the hours were numbered. At leng-th the weary 
waiting- ended, and the joyous meeting- came of 
mother and son, of sisters and brother, after a sep- 
aration of four years of health and sickness, of joy 
and anguish, of hope and fear. 

As we stood upon the platform of the Decatur 
depot, and saw him step from the train, which 
we had been told by teleg-ram would bring- him 
to us, our hearts were filled with consternation 
and pity, and tears unbidden coursed down our 
cheeks, as we looked upon the brave and g-allant 
brother, who had now given three years of his 
early manhood to a cause rendered dear by in- 
heritance and the hig-hest principles of patriotism, 
and, in doing so, had himself become a physical 
wreck. He was lean to emaciation, and in his 
pale face was not a suggestion of the ruddy 
color he had carried away. A constant coug-h, 
which he tried in vain to repress, betrayed the 
deep inroads which prison life had made upon his 
system ; and in this respect he represented his 
friends — in describing- his appearance, we leave 
nothing untold about theirs. In war-worn pants 
and faded grey coats, they presented a spectacle 
never to be forgotten. 

Joy and grief contended for the supremacy. 
We did not realize that even a brief period of 
good nursing- and feeding- would work a g-reat 
change in the physical being of men just out of 
the prison pens of the frig-id North, and wept to think 



BVBING THE WAR. 61 

that disease, apparently so deeply rooted, could not 
be cured, and that they were restored to us but to 
die. Perceiving- our grief and divining- the cause, 
our Thomie took us, our mother first, into his 
arms and kissed us, and said in his old-time way, 
"I'll be all rig-ht soon." 

And Toby and Telitha, the house servants, came 
in for their share of kindly g-reeting-. 

Thomie then introduced us to Captain Lauderdale, 
Captain Formwalt, and Lieutenant McMurray, his 
Texas friends and comrades in arms. Our cordial, 
heart-felt welcome was appreciated b}- this trio of 
g-entlemen, and to this day we receive from them mes- 
sag-es of abiding- friendship. Captain Lauderdale was 
one of the most perfect g-entlemen I ever saw — tall, 
g-raceful, erect, and finely formed. His face, of Gre- 
cian mould, was faultless; and his hair, black as a 
raven's plumag-e, and interspersed with g-rey, would 
have adorned the head of a king-. His bearing- was 
dig-nified and yet affable, and so polished and eas}^ in 
manner as to invite most friendly intercourse. 

Captain Formwalt was also a fine specimen of man- 
hood — free and easy, g-ay and rollicking-. He seemed 
to think his mission on earth was to bring- cheerful- 
ness and g-lee into every household he entered. 

Lieutenant McMurray was unlike either of his 
friends. Apparentl}^ cold, apathetic and reserved, he 
repelled all advances tending- to cordial relations, 
until well acquainted, after which he was metamor- 
phosed into a kind and g-enial g-entleman. 

Thomie, dear Thomie, was a boy ag-ain, and while 
our g-uests were refreshing- themselves preparatory to 



62 LIFE IX DIXIE 

dinner, he was going" all over the house, for every 
nook and corner was endeared by association. He 
opened the piano, and running" his lingers over the 
ke3^s with the grace and ease of his boyhood, he 
played accompaniments to his favorite songs, " Home 
Again," and "Way Down Upon the Suwanee River," 
trying to sing, but prevented by the irrepressible 
coughing. Then, with nervous hand, he essayed 
"When this Cruel War is Over." Turning away from 
the piano, he went to the librar}^ and handled with 
tender care the books he had read in boyhood. Shake- 
speare, Milton, B3-ron and Moore possessed no inter- 
est for him now ; and Blackstone and Chitty were 
equally ignored. The books his mother and sister 
read to him in his childhood were, as if by intuition, 
selected, and fondly conned and handled. His own 
name was written in them, and his tearful e3^es lin- 
gered long and lovinglj- upon these reminders of bo}^- 
hood's happ}^ hours. With a sigh he left the librar^^ 
and espying Tob}^, who kept where he could see as 
much as possible of " Marse Thomie," he called the 
bo3^ and held an encouraging little conversation with 
him. 

Dinner being ready, our mother led the way to the 
dining room. Our guests having taken the seats as- 
signed them, Thomie took his near his mother — his 
boyhood's seat at table. B}^ request, Captain Lau- 
derdale asked the blessing. And, oh, what a blessing 
he invoked upon the "dear ones, who, with loving 
hands, prepared this feast for the son and brother 
of the household, and for his friends in peace and com- 
rades in war." Pleasant conversation ensued, and all 



DUBING THE WAR. 63 

enjoyed the repast. But the g-entlemen seemed to us 
to eat very little, and, in reply to our expression of 
disappointment, they explained the importance of lim- 
iting themselves for several days in this respect. 

As there was no trunk to send for, and no valise to 
carry, we rightly surmised that the clothing of these 
good men was limited to the apparel in which they 
were clad, and it was decided by my mother and my- 
self that I should go to Atlanta and get material for 
a suit of clothes for Thomie, and good warm under- 
clothing for them .all. Arrived at Atlanta, I was 
irresistibly led by that mystic power, which has often 
controlled for good results the acts of man, to go to 
Dr. Taylor's drug store. Here I found King, our 
faithful negro man, as busy as a bee, labeling and 
packing medicine for shipment. I approached him 
and said : 

"King, Thomie has come." 

"Marse Thomie ?" 

"Yes." 

"Thank God," he said, with fervor. 

When I was about leaving the store, he said : 

" Miss Mary, just wait a minute, please, and I will 
get something that I want you to take to Marse 
Thomie, and tell him I don't want him to be hurt 
with me for sending it to him. I just send it because 
I love him — me and him was boys together, j^ou 
know, and I always thought he ought to 'er took me 
with him to the war." 

"What is it. King?" 

" Just a little article I got in trade. Miss Mary," 
was all the satisfaction he vouchsafed. 



64 lif:e in dixie 

When he handed it to me, knowing- b}^ the sense of 
touch that it was a packag-e of dry g*oods, I took it to 
Mrs. O'Connor's millinery establishment, and asked 
the privilege of opening it there. Imagine my aston- 
ishment and delig-ht, when I beheld a pattern of fine 
g-rey cassimere. I felt of it, and held it up between 
my eyes and the lig-ht. There was nothing shoddy 
about it. It was indeed a piece of fine cassimere, 
finer and better than anything- I could have procured 
in Atlanta at that time. The circumstance was sug*- 
g-estive of Elijah and the ravens, and I thanked God 
for the gift so opportune, and lost no time in return- 
ing to the drug store, and thanking King, the raven 
employed by the Lord to clothe one of His little ones. 
Nor did I lose any time in adding- to the packag-e other 
articles of necessity, flannel and the best Georg-ia- 
made homespun I could procure, and was then ready 
to take the return train to Decatur. Thomie was 
deepl}^ touched by the opportune g-ift, and said that 
King was a great boy, and that he must see him. 

After supper I clandestinely left the house, and 
ran around to Todd McAllister's and beg-ged him to 
take the job of making the suit. He agreed to cut the 
coat, vest and pantaloons by measure, and for that 
purpose went home with me, shears and tape measure 
in hand. Having finished this important part of the 
job, he told me he could not make the suit himself, 
but he thought if I would " talk right pretty to the 
old lady," she would do it. Next morning I lost no 
time in "talking prett}^" to the old lady, and, having- 
secured her promise to undertake the work, it was 
soon in her hands. With the help of faithful, efficient 



DURING THE WAR. 65 

women, and I suspect of her husband, too, the job was 
executed surprisingly soon. In the meantime the 
making- of flannel g-arments, and homespun shirts 
with bosoms made of linen pillow-cases, was prog-ress- 
ing" with remarkable celerity. 

When all was finished, and Thomie was arrayed 
in his new suit, which set admirably well notwith- 
standing- the room allowed for increasing- dimensions, 
which we doubted not under g-ood treatment he would 
attain — King Solomon, in purple and line linen, was 
not looked upon with more admiration than was he 
by his loying mother and sisters. His cough had in 
a measure yielded to remedies, and his cheeks bore 
the tinge of better blood. 

Good Mr. Levi Willard, his wife and children, had 
already been to see Thomie and the strangers within our 
gates, and many others had sent kind messages and sub- 
stantial tokens of regard. And the young people of 
Decatur, 3"oung ladies and little boys, were planning 
to give him a surprise party. And among these lov- 
ing attentions was a visit from King, the faithful. 

The flowers bloomed prettier, the birds sang 
sweeter, because of their presence ; but time waits for 
no man, and we were admonished by low conversa- 
tions and suggestive looks that these men, officers in 
the army of the Confederacy, were planning their de- 
parture. 

Many amusing incidents, as well as those of a hor- 
rible character, were told of their prison life in Camp 
Chase. To illustrate the patriotism of Southern men. 
Colonel Deshler, as a prisoner of war, figured conspic- 
uously ; and many anecdotes, ludicrous and pathetic, 



66 . LIFE IN DIXIE 

quaint and orig-inal, revealed the deep devotion of his 
love for the South. In one of these word-painting-s, 
he was represented as sitting- on his legs, darning- the 
seat of his pantaloons, when a feminine curiosity 
seeker came along. When she perceived his occupa- 
tion, she said with a leer that would have done credit 
to Lucifer : 

"You rebels find it pretty hard work to keep your 
gray duds in order, don't you?" 

Without looking at her, he whistled in musical 
cadence the contempt he felt for her and her ilk ; and 
the imprecations, he would not have expressed in 
words, were so distinct and well modulated as to leave 
no doubt as to their meaning. 

The time had come for the nature of the low-toned 
conversations referred to, to be revealed, and Thomie 
was chosen to make the revelation. Planning to have 
mother and sisters present, he discussed the duties of 
patriotism, and the odium men brought upon them- 
selves b}^ not discharging those duties. Making the 
matter personal, he referred to himself and friends, 
to the great pleasure and personal benefit derived 
from a week's sojourn at home ; of the love for us that 
would ever linger in their hearts ; of the pleasant 
memories that would nerve them in future conflicts ; 
and in conclusion told us that to-morrow they would 
leave us to join their command at TuUahoma, where 
the decimated regiment was to sta}^ until its numbers 
were sufficiently recruited for service. 

Instead of yielding to grief, we repressed every 
evidence of it, and spoke only words of encourage- 
ment to these noble men who had never shirked a 



nUBIKG THE WAli. 67 

duty, or soug-ht bomb-poof positions in the arm}- of 
the Confederacy. After this interview, Thomie 
abandoned himself to cheerfulness, to almost boyish 
g-aiety. He kept very close to his mother. She had 
g-rown old so rapidly since the troubles beg-an, that 
she needed all the support that could be g"iven her in 
this ordeal. This he perceived without seeming- to do 
so, and left nothing- within his power undone for her 
encourag-ement. He even discussed with perfect 
equanimity the probability, yea, the more than proba- 
bility, of his g-etting- killed in battle ; for, said he, "he 
that taketh up the sword, by the sword shall he 
perish." And, he added, "strong-, irrepressible con- 
victions constrained me to enter the army in defense 
of mother, home, and country. My vote was cast for 
the secession of my state from the union of states 
which existed only in name, and I would not have ac- 
cepted any position tendered me which would 
have secured me from the dang-ers involved by that 
step. I was willing- to g-ive my life if need be, for the 
cause which should be dear to every Southern heart." 

Every one present responded to these noble senti- 
ments, for were we not soldiers, too, working- for the 
same noble cause, and aiding- and abetting- those who 
foug-ht its battles? 

Before retiring- to our rooms. Captain Lauderdale, 
as usual, led in prayer, fervent, deep and soul support- 
ing-, more for our mother and ourselves than for 
himself and his comrades in their perilous positions. 
And dear Thomie, whom I had never heard pray 
since his cradle invocation, 

" Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep," 



68 LIFE IK DIXIE 

finished in words thrilling- and beautiful. The effect 
was electrical. Tears and sobs were no longer re- 
pressed, and all found relief from long- pent-up feel- 
ing's. O, the blessedness of tears ! 

Morning- came, clear as crystal, and cool and ex- 
hilarating-. The household were up at early dawn. 
A strong- decoction of coffee was prepared, and fresh 
cream toast and boiled eg-g-s, meat relishes being- 
served cold. Knapsacks — there were knapsacks now 
— were packed, and blankets rolled and buckled in 
straps, and our ebony Confederates, Toby and Telitha, 
stood read}^ to convey them to the depot. In order to 
meet the morning- train at seven o'clock we started, 
but the services of Toby and Telitha were not ac- 
cepted. The g-entlemen said it would never do for 
soldiers to start off to report for service with neg-roes 
carrying- their knapsacks and blankets. They had no 
muskets to shoulder, for of these they had been di- 
vested at Arkansas Post, months ag-o, when captured 
by the enemy. 

Lieutenant McMurray, who was in feeble health, 
announced himself unable to report for duty, and 
remained with us several weeks long-er. 

The parting at the depot did not betray the grief, 
almost without earthly hope, that was rankling in 
our hearts, and the "good-bye's" and "God bless 
you's" were uttered with a composure we little 
thought at our command. 

As the time of his departure had drawn near, 
Thomie had sought opportunities to tell me much of 
the young girl in Texas, who had healed the lacera- 
tions of his youthful heart, and won the admiration of 



DUBIJS^G THE WAIi. 69 

his manliood, and whom he had made his wife. Upon 
her devotion he dwelt with peculiar pathos and grati- 
tude ; and he concluded these conversations with the 
request that under any and all circumstances I would 
be a sister to her. On one occasion we were stand- 
ing- near the piano, and, when we ceased to talk, 
Thomie opened it, and in tones that came from the 
heart, and that were tremulous with emotion, he 
sang-, "When this Cruel War is Over." 

Why sings the swan its sweetest notes, 

When life is near its close ? 

Since writing- the foreg-oing-, I have had access to a 
journal kept during- the war by my half sister, Mis- 
souri Stokes, in which are the following- entries of his- 
toric value : "On the 11th of January, 1868, Arkan- 
sas Post, the fort where Thomie was stationed, fell 
into the hands of Yankees. General Churchhill's 
whole command, numbering- about four thousand, 
were captured, a few being- killed aud wounded. We 
knew that Thomie, if alive, must be a prisoner, but 
could hear no tidings from him. Our suspense contin- 
ued until the latter part of March, when ma received 
a letter from our loved one, written at Camp Chase 
(military prison), Ohio, February 10th. This letter 
she forwarded to me, and I received it March 21st, 
with heart-felt emotions of gratitude to Him who had 
preserved his life. A few weeks afterwards another 
letter came, saying he expected to be exchanged in a 
few days, and then for several weeks we heard no 



more. 



From this journal I learn that the date of Thomie's 
arrival was May 16th, 1863. My sister wrote of him : 



70 LIFE IN DIXIE 

" He seemed much changfed, althoug-h only four years 
and a half had elapsed since we parted. He looked 
older, thinner, and more careworn, and g'ray hairs are 
sprinkled among- his dark brown curls. His health 
had been poor in the army, and then, when he left 
Camp Chase, he, as well as the other prisoners, was 
stripped by the Yankees of nearlj^ all his warm cloth- 
ing. He left the prison in April, and was exchanged 
at City Point. How strange the dealings of Provi- 
dence. Truly was he led by a way he knew not. He 
went out to Texas by way of the West, and returned 
home from the East. God be thanked for preserving 
his life, when so many of his comrades have died. He 
is a miracle of mercy. After their capture, they were 
put on boats from which Yankee small-pox patients 
had been taken. Some died of small-pox, but Thomie 
has had varioloid and so escaped. He was crowded 
on a boat with twenty-two hundred, and scarcely had 
standing room. Many died on the passage up the 
river, one poor fellow with his head in Thomie's lap. 
May he never go through similar scenes again !" 

From this same journal I take the following, writ- 
ten after Missouri's return to the school she was 
teaching in Bartow county : 

"Sabbath morning, June 14th. Went to Carters- 
ville to church. Some time elapsed before preaching 
commenced. A soldier came in, sat down rather be- 
hind me, then, rising, approached me. // zuas Thomie. 
I soon found (for we did talk in church) that he had 
an order to join Kirby Smith, with a recommendation 
from Bragg that he be allowed to recruit for his regi- 
ment. Fortunately there was a vacant seat in the 



JJUEIXG THE WAE. 71 

carriag"e, so he went out home with us. Monday 15th, 
Thomie left. I rode with him a little beyond the 
school-house, then took my books and basket, and 
with one kiss, and, on my part, a tearful g^ood-bye, we 
parted. As I walked slowly back, I felt so lonely. 
He had been with me just long- enoug^h for me to real- 
ize a brother's kind protection, and now he's torn 
away, and I'm ag-ain alone. I turned and looked. He 
was driving- slowly along — he turned a corner and 
was hidden from my view. Shall I see him no more ? 
Or shall we meet ag-ain ? God only knows. After a 
fit of weeping-, and one earnest prayer for him, I 
turned my step^ to my little school." 

And thus our brother went back to Texas, and 
g-ladly, too, for was not his Mary there ? 

Of Thomie's recall to join his command at Dalton ; 
of his arrival at home the next February, on his way 
to " the front ;" of his participation in the hard-foug-ht 
battles that contested the wa}^ to Atlanta ; and of his 
untimely death at the fatal battle of Franklin, Ten- 
nessee, I may speak hereafter. 

Even in the spring- and summer of 1863, the shad- 
ows began to deepen, and to hearts less sanguine 
than mine, affairs were assuming a gloomy aspect. I 
notice in this same journal from which I have quoted 
the foregoing extracts, the following : 

"Our fallen braves, how numerous ! Among our 
generals, Zollicoffer, Ben McCulloch, Albert Sidney 
Johnston, and the saintly, dauntless Stonewall Jack- 
son, are numbered with the dead ; while scarcely a 
household in our land does not mourn the loss of a 
brave husband and father, son or brother." 



72 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHApTKR VIII. 

SOME SOCIAL FEATURES. 

Morgan's Men Rendezvous near Decatur — Waddell's Artillery 
—Visits from the Texans— Surgeon Haynie and his Song. 

In the winter of 1864 there seems to have been a 
lull of hostilities between the armies at "the front." 
Morgan's .men were rendezvousing- near Decatur. 
Their brave and dashing chief had bee*^ captured, but 
had made his escape from the Ohio penitentiary, and 
was daily expected. Some artillery companies were 
camping- near, among them Waddell's. There was 
also a conscript camp within a mile or two ; so it is 
not to be wondered at that the young ladies of Decatur 
availed themselves in a quiet way of the social enjoy- 
ment the times afforded, and that there were little 
gatherings at private houses at which "Morgan's 
men" and the other soldiers were frequently repre- 
sented. 

Our brother was absent in Texas, where he had 
been assigned to dut}^ but my sister was at home, and 
man}' an hour's entertainment her music gave that 
winter to the soldiers and to the jonng people of De- 
catur. My mother's hospitality was proverbial, and 
much of our time these wintry months was spent in 
entertaining our soldier guests, and in ministering to 
the sick in the Atlanta hospitals, and in the camps 
and temporary hospitals about Decatur. 



DURING THE WAR. 73 

So near were we now to " the front " (about a hun- 
dred miles distant), that several of my brother's Tex- 
as comrades obtained furloug-hs and came to see us. 
Among- these were Lieutenants Prenderg-ast and 
Jewell, Captain Leonard and Lieutenant Collins, 
Captain Bennett and Lieutenant Donathan. They 
usually had substantial boots made while here, by 
Smith, the Decatur boot and shoe maker, which cost 
less than those they could have boug-ht in Atlanta. 
We received some very pleasant calls from Morg-an's 
men and Waddell's Artillery. Among- the latter we 
have always remembered a young- man from Alabama, 
James Duncan Calhoun, of remarkable intellectual 
ability, refreshing- candor and refinement of manner. 
Ever since the war Mr. Calhoun has devoted himself 
to journalism. Among the former we recall Lieuten- 
ant Adams, Messrs. Gill, Dupries, Clinkinbeard, 
Steele, Miller, Fortune, Rowland, Baker, and Dr. 
Lewis. These gentlemen were courteous and intelli- 
g-ent, and evidently came of excellent Kentucky and 
Tennessee families. One evening- several of these 
g-entlemen had taken tea with us, and after supper 
the number of our g-uests was aug-mented by the com- 
ing of Dr. Ruth, of Kentucky, and Dr. H. B. Haynie, 
surgeon of the 14th Tennessee Cavalry. Dr. Ha3^nie 
was an elderly, gray-haired man, of fine presence, and 
with the courtly manners of the old school. On being- 
unanimously requested, he sang- us a song- entitled : 
"The Wailing-s at Fort Delaware," which he had 
composed when an inmate of that wretched prison. 
As one of the g-entlemen remarked, "there is more 
truth than poetry in it ;'' yet there are in it some indi- 



74 LIFE IN DIXIE 

cations of poetic genius, and Dr. Haynie sang it with 
fine effect. 

"THE WAILINGS AT FORT DP:LAWARE." 

By B. H. Haynie, Surgeon 14th Tennessee Cavalry (Mor- 
gan's Division). 

Oh! here we are confined at Fort Delaware, 
With nothing to drink but a little lager beer, 
Infested by vermin as much as we can bear; 
Oh -Jeff, can't you help us to get away from here '? 

Chorus— 

And it's home, dearest home, the place 1 ought to be, 
Home, sweet home, way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak and the bonny willow tree, 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. 

The Island itself will do well enough, 
But the flat-footed Dutch are filthy and rough, 
Oh I take us aAvay from the vandal clan, 
Down into Dixie among the gentlemen. 

Chorus — And its home, dearest home, etc. 

Spoiled beef and bad soup is our daily fare, 
And to complain is more than any dare ; 
They will buck us and gag us, and cast us in a cell. 
There to bear the anguish and torments of hell. 

Chorus— 

The den for our eating is anything but clean. 
And the filth upon the tables is plainly to be seen, 
And the smell of putrefaction rises on the air, 
" To fill out the bill " of our daily fare, 

Chorus— 



DURING THE WAR. 75 

*" The sick are well treated," as Southern surgeons say, 
" And the losses by death are scarcely four per day ;" 
It's diarrhoea mixture for scurvy and small-pox, 
And every other disease of Pandora's box! 

Chorus— 

Oh! look at the graveyard on the Jersey shore, 

At the hundreds and the thousands who'll return no more: 

Oh ! could they come back to testify 

Against the lying devils, and live to see them die ! 

Chorus— 

*"Our kindness to prisoners you cannot deny. 
For we have the proof at hand upon which you can rely ; 
It's no Dutch falsehood, nor a Yankee trick. 
But from Southern surgeons who daily see the sick." 
Chorus— 

Our chaplain, whose heart was filled with heavenly joys. 
Asked leave to pray and preach to Southern boys ; 
"Oh, no !" says the General, "you are not the man, 
You are a Southern rebel, the vilest of your clan !" 

Chorus— 

Oh ! speak out, young soldier, and let your country hear. 
All about your treatment at Fort Delaware ; 
How they worked you in their wagons when weary and sad, 
With only half rations, when plenty they had. 

Chorus— 

The barracks were crowded to an overflow, 
Without a single comfort on the soldier to bestow ; 
Oh, there they stood shivering in hopeless despair, 
With insufficient diet or clothing to wear ! 

Chorus— 



76 LIFE IX DIXIE 

The mother stood weeping in sorrows of woe, 

Mingling her tears with the waters that flow ; 

Her son was expiring at Fort Delaware, 

Which could have been avoided with prudence and care. 

Chorus — 

Oh ! take ofT my fetters and let me go free, 
To roam o'er the mountains of old Tennessee ; 
To bathe in her waters and breathe her balmy air, 
And look upon her daughters so lovely and fair. 

Chorus— 

Then, cheer up, my brave boys, your country will be free, 
Your battles will be fought by Generals Bragg and Lee ; 
And the Yankees will fly with trembling and fear, 
And we'll return to our wives and sweethearts so dear. 

Chorus— 

And it's home, dearest home, the place where I ought to be, 
Home, sweet home way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak, and the bonny willow tree. 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. 



*The fifth and seventh verses are criticisms upon four Southern surgeons, 
who gave the Federal authorities a certificate that our prisoners were well 
treated, and our sick well cared for, and that the average loss by death was 
only four per day . 



DURING THE WAR 77 



CHAPTER IX. 

thomik's second homk coming. 
He Leaves for "The Front"— His Christian Labors in Camp- 
He Describes the Battle of New Hope Church — The Great 
Revival in Johnston's Army. 

Early one morning" in the February of the winter 
just referred to (that of 1864), as my sister lay awake, 
she heard some one step upon the portico and knock. 
As Toby opened the door, she heard him exclaim : 
"Why howd'y, Marse Thomie !" Her first thoug-ht 
was, "now he is back just in time to be in the battle !" 
for a resumption of hostilities was daily looked for 
near Dalton. We were all g-reatly surprised at 
Thomie's arrival on this side of the Mississippi, as 
only a few days before we had received a letter from him, 
written, it is true, so long- as the November before, say- 
ing- he had been assig-ned to duty out in Texas by Gen- 
eral Henry McCulloch. But the consolidation of the 
reg-iments in Granbury's brig-ade having- been broken 
up, he had been ordered back to join his old command. 
He had left Marshall, Texas, the 28th of January, hav- 
ing- made the trip in one month, and having- walked 
four hundred miles of the way. Under the circum- 
stances, we were both g-lad and sorrowful at his re- 
turn. After a stay of three days, he left us for "the 
front." In the early morning- of February 29th, we 
went with him to the depot, the last time we four 



78 LIFE IN DIXIE 

were ever tog^ether. Parting- from him was a bitter 
trial to our mother, who wept silently as we walked 
back to the desolate home, no long-er g-laddened by 
the sunny presence of the only son and brother. Per- 
haps nothing- will g-iv^e a more g-raphic impression of 
some phases of arm}- life at this time, nor a clearer 
insig-ht into our brother's character, than a few ex- 
tracts from his letters written at this period to his 
sister Missouri, and preserved by her to this day: 

"Dalton, Ga., March 15th, 1864.— * * * Our 
reg-iment takes its old org-anization as the 10th Texas, 
and Colonel Young- has been dispatched to Texas to 
g-ather all the balance, under an order from the war 
department. We are now in Dalton doing- provost 
duty (our reg-iment), which is a y^xj unpleasant duty. 
It is my business to examine all papers whenever the 
cars arrive, and it is very disag-reeable to have to 
arrest persons who haven't proper papers. The reg-u- 
lations about the town are very strict. No one under 
a brig-adier-g-eneral can pass without approval papers. 
My g-uard arrested General Johnston himself, day 
before yesterday. Not knowing- him they wouldn't 
take his word for it, but demanded his papers. The 
old General, very g-ood-humoredly showed them some 
orders he had issued himself, and, being- satisfied, they 
let him pass. He took it g-ood-humoredly, while little 
colonels and majors become very indignant and wrathy 
under such circumstances. Prom which we learn, 
first, the want of g-ood common sense, and, secondly, 
that a great man is an humble man, and does not look 
with contempt upon his inferiors in rank, whatsoever 
that rank may be. 



DURING THE WAR. 79 

"There is a very interesting- meeting- in prog-ress 
here. I g-et to g-o every other nig-ht. I have seen sev- 
eral baptized since I have been here. There are in 
attendance every evening- from six to seven hundred 
soldiers. There are many who g-o to the anxious seat. 
Three made a profession of relig-ion nig-ht before last. 
I am g"oing- to-night. There seems to be a deep inter- 
esttaken, and God g-rant the g-ood work may g-o on 
until the whole army may be made to feel where they 
stand before their Maker. Write soon. 

Your affectionate brother, 

Tom Stokes." 
From another letter we take the following- : 
"Near Dalton, April 5th, 1864.— We have had for 
some weeks back very unsettled weather, which has 
rendered it very disag-reeable, thoug-h we haven't suf- 
fered ; we have an old tent which affords a g-ood deal 
of protection from the weather. It has also interfered 
some with our meeting's, thoug-h there is preaching- 
nearly every nig-ht that there is not rain. Brother 
Hug-hes came up and preached for us last Friday nig-ht 
and seemed to g-ive g-eneral satisfaction. He was plain 
and practical, which is the only kind of preaching- that 
does g-ood in the army. He promised to come back 
ag-ain. I like him very much. Another old brother, 
named Campbell, whom I heard when I was a boy, 
preached for us on Sabbath evening-. There was much 
feeling-, and at the close of the services he invited 
mourners to the anxious seat, and I shall never forg-et 
that blessed half-hour that followed; from every part 
of that grreat cong-reg-ation they came, many with 
streamings eyes; and, as they g-ave that old patriarch 



80 LIFE IX DIXIE 

their hands, asked that God's people would pray for 
them. Yes, men who never shrank in battle from any 
responsibility, came forward weeping*. Such is the 
power of the Gospel of Christ when preached in its 
purity. Oh, that all ministers of Christ could, or 
would, realize the g-reat responsibilit}^ resting- upon 
them as His ambassadors. 

' ' Sabbath night we had services again, and also last 
nig"ht, both well attended, and to-nig-ht, weather per- 
mitting, I will preach. God help me and give me 
g-race from on hig-h, that I may be enabled, as an hum- 
ble instrument in His hands, to speak the truth as it 
is in Jesus, for 'none but Jesus can do helpless sinners 
g"Ood.' I preached last Sabbath was two weeks ago 
to a larg-e and attentive congregation. There seemed 
to be much seriousness, and although much embar- 
rassed, yet I tried, under God, to feel that I was but 
in the discharge of my duty; and may I ever be found 
battling for my Savior. Yes, my sister, I had rather be 
an humble follower of Christ than to wear the crown 
of a monarch. Remember me at all times at a Throne 
of Grace, that my life may be spared to become a use- 
ful minister of Christ. 

"Since my return we have established a prayer- 
meeting in our company, or, rather, a kind of family 
service, every night after roll call. There is one other 
company which has pra3^er every night. Captain 
P. is very zealous. There are four in our company 
who pray in public — one sergeant, a private, Cap- 
tain F. and myself. We take it time about. We 
have cleared up a space, fixed a stand and seats, and 
have a regular preaching place. I have never seen 



DURING THE WAR. 81 

such a spirit as there is now in the army. Relig-ion is 
the theme. Everywhere, you hear around the camp- 
fires at nig-ht the sweet songs of Zion. This spirit 
pervades the whole army. God is doing- a glorious 
work, and I believe it is but the beautiful prelude to 
peace. I feel confident that if the enemy should 
attempt to advance, that God will fig-ht our battles for 
us, and the boastful foe be scattered and severely 
rebuked. 

"I witnessed a scene the other evening, which did 
my heart good— the baptism of three men in the creek 
near the encampment. To see those hardy soldiers 
taking up their cross and following their Master in 
His ordinance, being- buried with Him in baptism, 
was indeed a beautiful sight. I really believe, Mis- 
souri, that there is more religion now in the army 
than among- the thousands of skulkers, exempts and 
speculators at home. There are but few now but who 
will talk freely with you upon the subject of their 
soul's salvation. What a chang-e, what a change! 
when one year ago card pla3-ing- and profane languag-e 
seemed to be the order of the day. Now, what is the 
cause of this change? Manifestly the working of 
God's spirit. He has chastened His people, and this 
manifestation of His love seems to be an earnest of 
the good things in store for us in not a far away 
future. 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and 
scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' Let all the 
people at home now, in unison with the army, hum- 
bly bow, acknowledg-e the afflicting hand of the 
Almighty, ask Him to remove the curse upon His own 
terms, and soon we will hear, so far as our Nation is 



82 LIFE IN DIXIE 

concerned, ' Glory to God in the hig-hest, on earth 
peace, g"ood will toward men ! ' 

" I received the articles ma sent by Brother Hug-hes, 
which were much relished on the top of the coarse 
fare of the army. ^h ^^ * Write me often. God 
bless you in your labors to do g-ood. 

Your affectionate brother, 

T. J. Stokes." 

From another of those time-stained, but precious 
letters, we cull the following-, under the heading* of : 

"In Camp, Near Dal ton, Ga., April 18, 1864.— * 
* * The g"Ood work still g"oes on here. Thirty-one 
men were baptized at the creek below our brigade yes- 
terda}^ and I have heard from several other brig-ades 
in which the proportion is equally larg-e (thoug-h the 
thirty-one were not all members of this brig-ade). 
Taking- the proportion in the whole army as heard 
from (and I have only heard from a part of one corps), 
there must have been baptized yesterday 150 persons 
—maybe 200. This revival spirit is not confined to a 
part only, but pervades the whole army. ^ ^ ^ * 
Brother Hug-hes was with us the other nig-ht, but left 
again the next morning-. The old man seemed to have 
much more influence in the army than young- men. I 
have preached twice since writing- to you, and the 
Spirit seemed to be with me. The second sermon was 
upon the crucifixion of Christ: text in the 53d chapter 
of Isaiah : ' He was wounded for our transg-ressions 
and bruised for our iniquities.' It was the first time 
in my life, that is, in public speaking-, that my feeling-s 
g-ot so much the mastery of me as to make me weep 
like a child. In the conclusion I asked all who felt an 



DURING THE WAB. 83 

interest in the prayers of God's people to come to the 
anxious seat. Many presented themselves, and I could 
hear many among- them, with sobs and groans, 
imploring- God to have mercy upon them; and I think 
the Lord did have mercy upon them, for when we 
opened the door of the church six united with us. 
Every Sabbath you may see the multitude wending- 
their way to the creek to see the solemn ordinance 
typical of the death, burial and resurrection of our 
Savior. Strang-e to say that a larg-e number of those 
joining- the pedo-Baptist branches prefer being- im- 
mersed; thoug-h in the preaching you cannot tell to 
which denomination a man belongs. This is as it 
should be; Christ and Him crucified should be the 
theme. It is time enough, I think, after one is con- 
verted, to choose his church rule of faith. 

"If this state of things should continue for any 
considerable length of time, we will have in the Army 
of Tennessee an army of believers. Does the history 
of the world record anywhere the like ? Even Crom- 
well's time sinks into insignificance. A revival so 
vast in its proportions, and under all the difdculties 
attending camp life, the bad weather this spring, and 
innumerable difficulties, is certainly an earnest of bet- 
ter, brighter times not far in the future." 

To the believer in Jesus, we feel sure that these 
extracts concerning this remarkable work of grace, 
will prove of deep interest ; so we make no apologies 
for quoting in continuation the following from 
another of those letters of our soldier brother, to whom 
the conquests of the cross were the sweetest of all 
themes : 



84 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

"Near'Dalton, April 28tli, 1864.— Mj Dear Sister: 
I should hav^e written sooner but have been very much 
eng-ag-ed, and when not eng-ag-ed have felt more like 
resting than writing, and, to add to this. Sister Mary 
very ag-reeably surprised me by coming- up on last 
Saturday. She left on Tuesday morning- for home. 
While she was at Dalton, I went down on each day 
and remained until evening-. I fear ma and sister are 
too much concerned about me, and therefore render 
themselves unhappy. Would that they could trust 
God calmly for the issue. And I fear, too, that they 
deny themselves of many comforts, that the}^ may fur- 
nish me with what I could do (as many have to do) 
without. 

^ -^ -^ -^ :^ -^ ■:^ 

" The great unexampled revival is fast increasing- 
in interest. I have just returned from the creek, 
where I saw thirty-three buried with Christ in bap- 
tism, acknowledg-ing there before two thousand per- 
sons that they were not ashamed to follow Jesus in 
His ordinance. My soul was made happy in witness- 
ing the solemn scene. In that vast audience every- 
thing- was as quiet and respectful as in a villag-e 
chapel ; and, by the way, I have seen villag-e cong-re- 
g-ations who might come here and learn to behave. 
General Lowry baptized about thirteen of them who 
were from his brig-ade. He is a Christian, a soldier 
and a zealous preacher, and his influence is g-reat. It 
was truly a beautiful sight to see a general baptizing- 
his men. He preaches for our brigade next Sabbath. 
I preached for General Polk's brig-ade nig-ht before 
last, and we had a very interesting meeting-. They 



DURING THE WAB. 85 

have just beg-un there, yet I had a congreg-ation of 
some 400. At the conclusion of the services, I invited 
those who desired an interest in our prayers to mani- 
fest their desire b}- coming to the altar. A g-oodly 
number presented themselves, and we prayed with 
them. I shall preach for them ag^ain very soon. The 
revival in our brig-ade has continued now for four 
weeks, nearly, and many have found peace with their 
Savior. If we could remain stationary a few weeks 
long-er, I believe the g^reater portion of the army 
would be converted. This is all the doing-s of the 
Lord, and is surely the earnest of the g-reat deliver- 
ance in store for us. It is the belief of many, that this 
is the 'beginning- of the end.' From all parts of the 
army the glad tidings comes that a great revival is 
in progress. I wish I had time to write to you at 
length. One instance of the power of His spirit : A 
lieutenant of our regiment, and heretofore very wild, 
became interested, and for nearly three weeks seemed 
groaning in agony. The other day he came around 
to see me, and, with a face beaming with love, told me 
he had found Christ, and that his only regret now was 
that he had not been a Christian all his life. It is 
growing dark. I must close. More anon. 

Affectionately, 

Your Brother." 
We take up the next letter in the order of time. It 
is numbered 25. The envelope is of brown wrapping 
paper, but neath^ made, and has a blue Confederate 
10 cent postage stamp. It is addressed to my sister, 
who was then teaching at Corinth, Heard countj^ 
Georgia, It is dated : 



86 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Near Dal ton, May 5tli, 1864." After speaking- of 
having- to take charg-e early the next morning- of the 
brig-ade picket g-uard, Thomie goes on to say : 

" The sun's most down, but I think I can fill these 
little pag-es before dark. Captain P., coming- in at 
this time, tells me a dispatch has just been received 
to the effect that the Yankees are advancing- in the 
direction of Tunnel Hill, but they have made so many 
feints in that direction lately that we have become 
used to them, so don't become uneasy. 

" The g-reat revival is g"oing- on with widening- and 
deepening interest. Last Sabbath I saw eighty-three 
immersed at the creek below our brigade. Four were 
sprinkled at the stand before going down to the 
creek, and two down there, making an aggregate 
within this vicinity of eighty-nine, while the same 
proportion, I suppose, are turning to God in other 
parts of the army, making the grand aggregate of 
many hundreds. Yesterday I saw sixty-five more 
baptized, forty more who were to have been there 
failing to come because of an order to be ready to 
move at any moment. They belong to a more distant 
brigade. * * jf ^e do not move before Monda}^, 
Sabbath will be a day long to be remembered- — ' the 
water will,' indeed, 'be troubled.' Should we remain 
three weeks longer, the glad tidings may go forth 
that the Army of Tennessee is the army of the Lord. 
But He knoweth best what is for our good, and if 
He sees proper can so order His providence as to keep 
us here. His will be done." 

The next letter is addressed to me, but was sent to 



DURING THE WAR. 87 

my sister at m}' request, and is dated "Allatoona 
Mountains, Near Nig-ht, May 22nd." He writes : 

"Oh, it g-rieved my very soul when coming- through 
the beautiful Oothcalog-a valley, to think of the sad 
fate which awaited it when the foul invader should 
occupy that 'vale of beauty.' We formed line of battle 
at the creek, at the old Kads place ; our brigade was 
to the left as you go up to Mr. Law's old place on the 
hill, where we stayed once when pa was sick. Right 
here, with a thousand dear recollections of by-gone 
days crowding my mind, in the valley of my boyhood, 
I felt as if I could hurl a host back. We fought them 
and whipped them, until, being flanked, we were com- 
pelled to fall back. We fought them again at Cass 
Station, driving them in our front, but, as before, and 

for the same reason, we were compelled to retreat. 
* * * * * * 

"As I am requested to hold prayer-meeting this 
evening at sunset, I must close." 

Thomie's next letter in this collection is addressed 
to his sister Missouri, who had returned home, and is 
headed, simply, "Army of Tennessee, May 31st." It 
is written in a round, legible, but somewhat delicate 
hand, and gives no evidence of nervousness or hurry. 
To those fond of war history, it will be of special in- 
terest : 

"Our brigade, in fact our division, is in a more quiet 
place now than since the commencement of this cam- 
paign. We were ordered from the battlefield on Sun- 
day morning to go and take position in supporting 
distance of the left wing of the arm}^ where we ar- 
rived about the middle of the forenoon, and remained 



88 LIFE IN DIXIE 

there until yesterday evening*, when our division was 
ordered back in rear of the left centre, where we are 
now. Contrary to all expectations, we have remained 
here perfectly quiet, there being- no heavy demonstra- 
tion by the enemy on either wing-. We were very tired, 
and this rest has been a g-reat help to us; for being- a re- 
serve and flanking- division, we have had to trot from 
one end of the wing- of the army to the other, and 
support other troops. 

^ ^ ;{: ^ ^ ;iJ 

"Well, perhaps 3'ou would like to hear something- 
from me of the battle of New Hope Church, on Friday 
evening-, 27th inst. We had been, since the da}^ be- 
fore, supporting- some other troops about the centre of 
the rig-ht wing-, when, I suppose about 2 o'clock, we 
were hurried off to the extreme rig-ht to meet a heavy 
force of the enemy tr34n^ to turn our rig-ht. A few min- 
utes later the whole army mig-ht now have been in the 
vicinity of Atlanta, but, as it was, we arrived in the 
nick of time, for before we were properly formed the 
enemy were firing- into us rapidly. We fronted to 
them, however, and, then commenced one of the hottest 
eng-ag-ements, so far, of this campaig-n. We had no 
support, and just one sing-le line ag-ainst a whole corps 
of the enem}^, and a lieutenant of the 19th Arkansas, 
wounded and captured by them, and subsequently re- 
taken by our brig-ade, stated that another corps of the 
enemy came up about sundown. The fig-hting- of our 
men, to those who admire warfare, was mag-nificent. 
You could see a pleasant smile playing- upon the 
countenances of many of the men, as they would cry 
out to the Yankees, ' Come on, we are demoralized !' 



DVBING THE WAR. 89 

"One little incident rig-ht here, so characteristic of 
the man. Major Kennard (of whom I have told you 
often, lately promoted), was, as usual, encourag-ing- the 
men by his battle-cry of, 'Put your trust in God, men, 
for He is with us,' but concluding- to talk to the Yankees 
awhile, san^ out to them, ' Come on, we are demoral- 
ized,' when the Major was pretty severely wounded in 
the head, thoug-h not seriously; raising- himself up, he 
said: 

" 'Boys, I told them a lie, and I believe that is the 
reason I g-ot shot.' 

"The lig-h ting- was very close and desperate, and 
lasted until after dark. About 11 o'clock at night, 
three reg-iments of our brig-ade charg-ed the enemy, 
our reg-iment among- them. We went over ravines, 
rocks, almost precipices, running- the enemy entirely 
off the field. We captured many prisoners, and all of 
their dead and many of their wounded fell into our 
hands. This charg-e was a desperate and reckless 
thing-, and if the enemy had made any resistance they 
could have cut us all to pieces. I hurt my leg- slig-htly 
in falling- down a cliff of rocks, and when we started 
back to our orig-inal line of battle I thoug-ht I would 
g-o back alone and pick my way; so I bore off to the 
left, got lost, and completely bewildered between two 
armies. I copy from my journal: 

" 'Here I was, alone in the darkness of midnight, 
with the wounded, the dying, the dead. What an 
hour of horror! I hope never again to experience such. 
I am not superstitious, but the great excitement of 
seven hours of fierce conflict, ending with a bold, and 
I might say reckless, charge — for we knew not what 



90 LIFE IN DIXIE 

was in our front — and then left entirely alone, causes 
a mental and physical depression that for one to fully 
appreciate he must be surrounded by the same circum- 
stances. My feeling's in battle were nothing- to com- 
pare to this hour. After g"oing first one way and then 
another, and not bettering my case, I heard some one 
slipping along in the bushes. I commanded him to 
halt, and inquired what regiment he belonged to, and 
was answered, ' 15th Wisconsin,' so I took Mr. Wis- 
consin in, and ordered him to march before me — a nice 
pickle for me then, had a prisoner and did not know 
where to go. Moved on, however, and finally heard 
some more men walking, hailed them, for I had become 
desperate, and was answered, ' Mississippians.' Oh, 
how glad I was! The moon at this time was just rising-, 
and, casting her pale silver}^ rays through the dense 
woods, made ever^^ tree and shrub look like a spectre. 
^^ saw a tall, muscular Federal l^'ing dead and the 
moonlight shining in his face. His eyes were open 
and seemed to be riveted on me. I could not help but 
shudder. I soon found my regiment, and ' Richard 
was himself again.' 

"I. went out again to see if I could do anything for 
their wounded. Soon found one with his leg shot 
through, whom I told we would take care of. An- 
other, shot in the head, was cr^dng out continually; 
' Oh, my God ! oh, my God ! !' I asked him if we could 
do anything for him, but he replied that it would be 
of no use. I told him God would have mercy upon 
him, but his mind seemed to be wandering. I could 
not have him taken care of that night, and, poor fel- 
low, there he lay all night. 



#?*^. 



DVBING THE WAB. 91 

" The next morning- 1 had the privileg-e of walking 
over the whole ground, and such a scene ! Here lay 
the wounded, the dying, and the dead, hundreds upon 
hundreds, in every conceivable position ; some with 
contorted features, showing the agony of death, 
others as if quietly sleeping. I noticed some soft 
beardless faces which ill comported with the savage 
warfare in which they had been engaged. Hundreds 
of letters from mothers, sisters, and friends were found 
upon them, and ambrotypes, taken singly and in 
groups. Though they had been my enemies, my heart 
bled at the sickening scene. The wounded nearly all 
expressed themselves tired of the war. 

" For the numbers engaged upon our side, it is said 
to be the greatest slaughter of the enemy of any recent 
battle. Captain Hearne, the old adjutant of our reg- 
iment, was killed. Eight of our regiment were in. 
stantly killed; two mortally wounded, since dead. 

" I did not think of writing so much when I began, 
but it is the first opportunity of writing anything like 
a letter that I have had. Lieutenant McMurray is 
now in charge of the Texas hospital at Auburn, Ala- 
bama. 

>K * * * * * 

"Well, you are now Aunt Missouri. Oh, that I 
could see my boy ! Heaven has protected me thus far 
and I hope that God will consider me through this 
dreadful ordeal, and protect me for Christ's sake ; not 
that there is any merit that I can offer, but I do hope 
to live that I may be an humble instrument in the 
hands of my God to lead others to Him. I hold prayer 
in our company nearly every night when circumstances 



92 LIFE IN DIXIE 

will permit, and the men don't g-o to sleep before we 
are quiet. Poor fellows, thej are ever willing- to join 
me, but often are so wearied I dislike to interrupt them. 

" My sister, let our trust be confidently in God. He 
can save or He can destroy. Let us pray Him for 
peace. He can g-ive it us ; not pray as if we were 
making- an experiment, but pray believing- God will 
answer our prayers, for we have much to pray for." 

My sister subsequently copied into her journal the 
following- extract, taken from his, and written soon 
after the Battle of New Hope Church : 

"May 31st, 1864.— Here we rest by a little mur- 
muring- brook, sing-ing- along- as if the whole world was 
at peace. I lay down last nig-ht and g-azed away up 
in the peaceful heavens. All was quiet and serene up 
there, and the stars seemed to vie with each other in 
brightness and were fulfilling- their allotted destiny. 
My comrades all asleep ; nothing- breaks the silence. 
I leave earth for a time, and soar upon *imag-ination's 
wing-s' far away from this war-accursed land to where 
brig-ht ang-els sing- their everlasting- song-s of peace 
and strike their harps along- the g-olden streets of the 
New Jerusalem, and the swelling- music bursts with 
sweet accord throug-hout vast Heaven's eternal space !" 

Ag-ain on Sabbath, June 5th, he writes: "No 
music of church bells is heard today summoning* God's 
people to worship where the gospel is wont to be 
heard. We are near a large log church called Gil gal. 
What a different scene is presented to-day from a Sab- 
bath four years ago when the aged minister of God 
read to a large and attentive congregation: "The 



DUBING THE WAR. 93 

Lord is tti}^ shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh 
me to lie down in g-reen pastures, He leadeth me 
beside the still waters." O, God, wilt thou not inter- 
pose Thy strong- arm to stop the bloody strife ? Wilt 
Thou not hear the prayers of Thy people who daily 
say, Lord, g^ive us peace? The Lord will answer, 
and soon white-robed peace will smile upon our 
unhappy countr}-. O God, hasten the day, for we are 
sorely vexed, and thine shall be all the g•lor3^''' 

Ere peace was to dawn upon his beloved country, 
his own soul was to find it throug-h the portals of 
death ; but ere that time, save a brief interval of en- 
forced rest, weary marching's and heart-breaking- 
scenes and sorrows were to intervene. 

Thomie's next letter is dated " In the Field, near 
Lost Mountain, June 14th," and the next "In the 
Ditches, June 22nd, 1864." The next, "Near Chatta- 
hoochee River, July f)th, 1864," tells of the retreat of 
the army from Kennesaw Mountain to Smyrna 
Church, and of his coming- off safely from another 
"small fig-ht" the day before, in which several of his 
comrades were killed. 

Owing- to nervous prostration, and other illness, 
Thomie was soon after sent to the hospital at Macon, 
transferred from there to Aug-usta, and from the latter 
point g-iven leave of absence to visit his sister, who 
had found refug-e with her cousin, Mrs. T. J. Hills- 
man, a daug-hter of Rev. Wm. II. Stokes of blessed 
memory. Here, with his father's kindred, cheered by 
beautiful hospitality and cousinly affection, our 
darling- brother enjoyed the last sweet rest and quiet 
earth was e'er to g-ive him before he slept beneath its sod. 



94 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER X. 

A visit to Dalton — The fidelity of an old-time slave. 

"From Atlanta to Dalton, $7.75. From the 23d 
to the 26th of April, 1864, to Mrs. John Reynolds, for 
board, $20.00. From Dalton to Decatur, $8.00." 

The above statement of the expense attending* a 
round trip to Dalton, Georg-ia, is an excerpt from a 
book which contains a record of every item of my 
expenditures for the year 1864. 

This trip was taken for the purpose of carrying- 
provisions and articles of clothing- to my brother and 
his comrades in General Joseph E. Johnston's com- 
mand. In vain had our mother tried to send appetiz- 
ing- baskets of food to her son, whose soldier rations 
consisted of salty bacon and hard tack ; some disaster, 
real or imag-inary, always occurred to prevent them 
from reaching- their destination, and it was, therefore, 
determined at home that I should carry the next con- 
sig-nment. 

After several days' preparation, jug-s were filled 
with g-ood sorg-hum syrup, and baskets with bread, 
pies, cakes and other edibles at our command, and 
sacks of potatoes, onions and peppers were included. 
My fond and loving- mother and I, and our faithful 
aid-de-camps of African descent, conveyed them to the 
depot. In those da3^s the depot was a favorite resort 



DURING THE WAE. 95 

with the ladies and chiklren of Decatur. There they 
always heard something- from the front — wherever 
that mig-ht be. The oblig-ing- ag-ent had a wa}^ all 
his own, of acquiring- information from the army in 
all its varied commands, and dealt it out g-alore to the 
encourag-ement or discourag-ement of his auditors, as 
his prejudices or partialities prompted. On this occa- 
sion many had g-one there, who, like myself, were 
g-oing- to take the train for Atlanta, and in the interim 
were eag-er to hear everything- of a hopeful character, 
even thoug-h reason urged that it was hoping- ag-ainst 
hope. 

I was the cynosure of all eyes, as I was g'oing- to 
" the front;" and every mother who had a darling- son 
in that branch of the arm}^ hoped that he would be the 
first to g-reet me on my arrival there, and g-ive me a 
messag-e for her. And I am sure, if the love consig-ned 
to me for transmission could have assumed tang-ible 
form and weig-ht, it would have been more than four- 
teen tons to the square inch. 

Helpful, willing- hands deposited with care m}- 
well-labeled jug-s, baskets, etc., and I deposited m3^self 
with equal care in an already well-filled coach on the 
Georg-ia Railroad. Arrived in Atlanta I surrepti- 
tiously stowed the jug-s in the car with me, and then 
asked the baggag-e-master to transfer the provisions 
to a Dalton freight train. Without seeming to do so, 
I watched his every movement until I saw the last 
article safely placed in the car, and then I went aboard 
myself. Surrounded by jugs and packages, I again 
became an object of interest, and soon found m3'self on 
familiar terms with all on board ; for were we not 



96 LIFE IN DIXIE 

friends and kindred bound to each other b^^ the closest 
ties ? Every ag^e and condition of Southern life was 
represented in that long- train of living-, anxious 
freig-ht. Young- wives, with wee bit tots chape- 
roned b}' their mothers and sometimes by their g-rand- 
mothers, were g'oing- to see their husbands, for, per- 
haps, the last time on earth; and mothers, feeling- 
that another fond embrace of their sons would palliate 
the sting- of final separation. The poor man and the 
rich man, fathers alike of men fig-hting- the same bat- 
tles in defense of the g-randest principle that ever 
inspired mortal man to combat, on their wa}^ to see 
those men and leave their benedictions with them; 
and sisters, solitary and alone, g'oing to see their 
beloved brothers and assure them once more of the 
purest and most disinterested love that ever found 
lodg-ment in the human heart. Many and pleasant 
were the brief conversations between those dissimilar 
in manners, habits and conditions in life; the g-reat 
bond connecting them rendered every other considera- 
tion subordinate, and the rich and poor, the educated 
and ig-norant, met and ming-led in harmonious inter- 
course. 

Those were da^^s of slow travel in the South. The 
roads were literally blockaded with chartered cars, 
which contained the household g-oods of refug-ees who 
had fled from the wrath and vandalism of the enemy, 
and not unfrequently refug-ees themselves inhabited 
cars that seemed in fearful proximity to dang-er. 
Ample opportunity of observation on either side was 
furnished by this slow travel, and never did the fine, 
arable lands bordering- the Western & Atlantic road 



DTJRINQ THE WAB. 97 

from the Chattahoochee river to Dalton g-ive g-reater 
promise of cereals, and trees in large variet}^ were lit- 
erally abloom with embryo fruit. Alas ! that such a 
land should be destined to fall into the hands of 
despoilers. 

At Dalton I went immediately to the agent at the 
depot, whom I found to be my old friend, John Rey- 
nolds, for the purpose of g-etting" information regard- 
ing- boarding- houses. He told me his wife was in 
that line and would accommodate me, and, to render 
the application more easy, he gave me a note of intro- 
duction to her. 

A beautiful, well-furnished room was g-iven me, 
and a luscious supper possessed exhilarating proper- 
ties. 

In the meantime, Mr. Reynolds had, at my request, 
notified my brother, whom he knew, of my presence 
in his house, and I awaited his coming anxiously; but 
I was disappointed. A soldier's time is not his own, 
even in seasons of tranquility, and he was on duty 
and could not come then, but he assured me on a small 
scrap of paper, torn from his note-book, that he would 
come as soon as he could get off "tomorrow morning." 

The waiting seemed ver}- long, and yet it had its 
ending. The night was succeeded by a typical April 
day, replete with sunshine and shower, and the hopes 
and fears of a people struggling for right over wrong. 

At length the cheery voice of him, who always had 
a pleasant word for every one, greeted me, and I hast- 
ened to meet him. That we might be quiet and 
undisturbed, I conducted him to my room, and a long 
and pleasant conversation ensued. I wish I had time 



98 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and space to recapitulate the conversation; for its every 
word and intonation are preserved in the archives of 
memory, and will enter the g-rand eternities with me 
as free from discord as when first uttered. Our moth- 
er's failing- health g-ave him concern, but his firm 
reliance in Him who doeth all thing's well, quieted his 
sad foreboding's and led the way to pleasanter themes. 

He loved to dwell upon the quaint and innocent 
peculiarities of his young'er sister, and, as for his older 
one, it was very evident that he reg'arded her fully 
strong- enoug"h to "tote her own skillet," and "paddle 
her own canoe." A rap upon the door indicated that 
some one wished to see either one or the other of us. 
I responded, and was met by a neg'ro boy bearing- a 
huge waiter, evidently well-filled, and covered over 
with a snow-white cloth. The aroma from that waiter 
would have made a mummy smile. I had it put upon 
a table, and then I removed the cover, and saw with 
g'ratification the squab pie which I had ordered for 
dear Thomie, and a g'reater g-ratification awaited me, 
/. e.^ seeing- him eat it with a relish. Nor was the pie 
the only luxury in that waiter. Fresh butter and but- 
termilk, and a pone of g'ood corn bread, etc., etc., sup- 
plemented by baked apples and cream and sug-ar. 

"Come, dear Thomie, and let us eat tog-ether once 
more," was my invitation to that dinner, and radiant 
with thanks he took the seat I offered him. I did not 
have the Christian courag-e to ask him to invoke a bless- 
ing- upon this excellent food, but I saw that one was 
asked in silence, nevertheless, and I am sure that an 
invocation went up from my own heart none the less 
sincere. 



DURING THE WAR. 99 

"Sister, I appreciate this compliment," he said. 

"I could do nothing- that would compliment you, 
Thomie," I answered, and added, "I hope jou will 
enjoy 3^our dinner as a love offering- from me." 

We ling-ered long- around that little table, and man}^ 
topics were touched upon during- that period. 

After dinner I asked Thomie to lie down and rest 
awhile. He thanked me, and said that the bed would 
tempt an anchorite to peaceful slumber, and he could 
not resist its wooing-s. A few minutes after he lay 
down he was sound asleep, He slept as a child — calm 
and peaceful. That a fly mig-ht not disturb him, I 
improvised a brush — m^- handkerchief and a tender 
twig- from a tree near b}- being- the component parts. 
As I sat by him and studied his manly young- face, 
and read its expression of g-ood will to all mankind, I 
wept to think that God had possibly required him as 
our sacrifice upon the altar of our countr3\ 

The slanting- rays of the Western sun fell full and 
radiant upon his placid face, and awakened him from 
this long- and quiet slumber. With a smile he arose 
and said : 

"This won't do for me." 

Hasty good-byes and a fervent "God bless 3^ou" 
were uttered, and another one of the few parting's that 
remained to be taken took place between the soldier 
and his sister. 

The ddij was brig-ht and exhilarating-, in the month 
of June, 1864. Gay laug-hing- Flora had tripped over 
woodland and lawn and scattered with prodig-al hands 
flowers of every hue and frag-rance, and the balmy 



100 LIFE IN DIXIE 

atmosphere of early summer was redolent with their 
sweet perfume; and all nature, animate and inanimate, 
seemed imbued with the spirit of adoration towards 
the Giver of these perfect works. Althoug-h man}^ 
hearts had been saddened bj the mig-hty conflict being- 
wag"ed for the supremacy of Constitutional rig-hts, 
there were yet in Decatur a larg^e number to whom 
personal sorrow for personal bereavement had not 
come, and they were in sympathy with this beautiful 
scene, whose brilliant tints were but the reflection of 
divine g"lory, and whose faintest odor was distilled in 
the alchemy of heaven. 

I was contemplating- this scene in g-rateful admira- 
tion, and blended with m}^ thoughts came the memory 
of m}^ brother, who was in the foremost ranks of the 
contest. He, too, loved the beautiful and the g"ood, 
and "looked from nature up to nature's God." All 
unconsciously I found myself plucking- his favorite 
flowers, and arrang-ing- a choice boquet, a spirit offer- 
ing to him who might even then be hovering over me 
and preparing my mind for the sad denouement. With 
these reflections, I ascended the steps of my cottage 
home, and turned to take another look upon the en- 
chanting scene, when I saw, approaching, one of my 
mother's faithful servants, who was hired to Dr. 
Taylor, a well-known druggist of Atlanta. Kver ap- 
prehensive of evil tidings from " the front," and " the 
front" being the portion of the army that embraced 
my brother, I was almost paralyzed. I stood as if riv- 
eted to the floor, and awaited developments. King, for 
that was the name of the ebony-hued and faithful 
servant whose unexpected appearance had caused such 



DURING THE WAR. 101 

a heart-flutter, came nearer and nearer. On his ap- 
proach I asked in husky voice, " Have you heard any- 
thing- from 3^our Marse Thomie, King- ?" 

" No, ma'am ; have you ?" 

The lig-ht of heaven seemed to dispel the dark 
clouds which had g-athered over and around my hori- 
zon, and I remembered my duty to one, who, thoug-h 
in a menial position, had doubtless come on some kind 
errand. 

"Come in. King-, and sit down and rest yourself," 
I said, pointing- to an easy chair on the portico. 

"I am not tired. Miss Mary, and would rather 
stand," he replied. 

And he did stand, with his hat in his hand ; and I 
thoug-ht for the first time in my life, probably, that 
he evinced a true manhood, worthy of Caucasian lin- 
eag-e ; not that there was a drop of Caucasian blood 
in his veins, for he was a perfect specimen of the Afri- 
can race and as black as Krebus. 

The suspense was becoming- painful, when it was 
broken by King- asking- : 

" Miss Mary, is Miss Polly at home ?" 

" Yes, King-, and I will tell her you are here." 

"Miss Polly," my mother and King-'s mistress, 
soon appeared and g-ave him a g-enuine welcome. 

King- now lost no time in making known the object 
of his visit, and thus announced it : 

"Miss Polly, don't you want to sell me ?" 

" No ; why do you ask ?" 

"Because, Miss Poll}^ Mr. Johnson wants to buy 
me, and he got me to come to see you and ask you if 
you would sell me." 



102 LIFE IN DIXIE 

" Do you want me to sell you, King- ? Would you 
rather belong- to Mr. Johnson than me ?" 

"Now, Miss Polly, you come to the point, and I 
am g-oing to try to answer it. I love you, and you 
have always been a good mistuss to us all, and I don't 
think there is one of us that would rather belong to 
some one else ; but I tell you how it is, Miss Polly, 
and you musn't g-et mad with me for saying it ; when 
this war is over none of us are going to belong to 3^ou. 
We'll all be free, and I would a g-reat deal rather Mr. 
Johnson would lose me than 3^ou. He is always brag- 
ging" about what he will do ; hear him talk, you would 
think he was a bigger man than Mr. Lincoln is, and 
had more to back him ; but I think he's a mighty lit- 
tle man myself, and I want him to lose me. He says 
he'll give you his little old store on Peachtree street 
for me. It don't mean much, I know, but, much or 
little, it's going to be more than me after the war." 

And thus this unlettered man, who in the ordinary 
acceptation of the term had never known what it was 
to be free, argued with his mistress the importance of 
the exchange of property of which he himself was a 
part, for her benefit and that of her children. 

"Remember, Miss Poll}-," he said, "that when 
Marse Thomie comes out of the war, it will be mighty 
nice for him to have a store of his own to commence 
business in, and if I was in j^our place I would take it 
for me, for I tell you again. Miss Polly, when the 
war's over we'll all be free." 

But the good mistress, who had listened in silence 
to these arguments, was unmoved. She saw before 
her a man who had been born a slave in her family, 



DURING THE WAB. 103 

and who had grown to man's estate under the foster- 
ing care of slavery, whose high sense of honor and 
g-ratitude constrained him to g-ive advice intelligently, 
which, if followed, would rescue her and her children 
from impending adversit}^ ; but she determined not to 
take it. She preferred rather to trust their future 
well-being- into the hands of Providence. Her beauti- 
ful faith found expression in this consoling passage of 
Scripture: " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not 
want." And this blessed assurance must have deter- 
mined her to pursue the course she did, else it would 
have been reckless and improvident. She told King 
that when our people became convinced that the trou- 
bles between the South and North had to be settled by 
the sword, that she, in common with all good citizens, 
staked her all upon the issues of the war, and that 
she would not now, like a coward, flee from them, or 
seek to avert them by selling a man, or men and 
women who had endeared themselves to her by ser- 
vice and fidelity. 



104 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XI. 

A PERILOUS TRUST. 

"It is most time to go to the post-office, ain't it, 
Miss Mary ? We are going" to get a letter from Marse 
Tliomie this morning." 

"What makes you so certain of it, Toby ?" 

" I don't know'm, but I am ; and every time I feels 
this way, I gets one ; so I'll just take my two little 
black calves and trot off to the office and get it ;" and 
suiting the action to the word he struck a pretty 
brisk gait and was soon around the corner and out of 
sight. 

Then Decatur received but two mails per day — one 
from an easterly direction and the other from a west- 
erly direction. The northern, northwestern, south- 
ern and southwestern, all coming in on the morning's 
Georgia Railroad train. Therefore ever since Thomie's 
return to his command, the western mail was the one 
around which our hopes and fears daily clustered. 

General Joseph E. Johnston's army was, at the time 
of this incident, at Dalton, obstructing the advance of 
Sherman's " three hundred thousand men " on destruc- 
tion bent. And though there had been no regular line 
of battle formed for some time by the Confederate 
and Federal forces, there were frequent skirmishes, 
disastrous alike to both sides. Hence the daily alter- 



DURING THE WAIL 105 

nation of hopes and fears in the hearts of those whose 
principal occupation was waiting- and watching- for 
"news from the front." 

The team of which Toby was the proud possessor 
did its work quickly, and in less time than it takes to 
tell it he appeared in sig-ht, returning- from the post- 
office — one hand clasping a packag-e of papers and let- 
ters, and the other, raised hig-h above his head, hold- 
ing- a letter. I could not wait, and ran to meet him. 

" I've g-ot a whole lot of letters, and every one of 
them is from Dalton, and this one is from Marse 
Thomie !" 

Toby had read the Dalton post-mark, and had 
made a correct statement. The well-known chirog-ra- 
phy of my brother had become so familiar to him that 
he never mistook it for another, and was unerring- 
in his declarations reg-arding- it. On this occasion 
Thomie's letter thus read : 

" My Dear Sister : — Those acquainted with army 
tactics know that General Johnston is on the eve of an 
important move, or chang-e of base ; and that it should 
be the effort of the men, officers and privates, to be 
prepared to make the chang-e, whatever it may be, 
with as little loss of army paraphernalia as possible. 
As the Confederate army has no repository secure from 
the approach of the enemy, several of our friends sug- 
g-est that you mig-ht be willing- to take care of any- 
thing- which we mig-ht send to you, that would be of 
future use to us — heavy overcoats, extra blankets, 
etc., etc. Consider well the proposition before you 
consent. Should they be found in your possession, by 
the enemy, then our home might be demolished, and 



106 LIFE IN DIXIE 

you perhaps imprisoned, or killed upon the spot. Are 
you willing- to take the risk, trusting- to your ingenu- 
ity and bravery to meet the consequences ? Let me 
know as soon as possible, as war times admit of little 
delay. General Granbury, Colonel Bob Young-, and 
others may make known to you their wishes by per- 
sonal correspondence. Love to my mother and sister, 
and to yourself, brave heart. 

Affectionately, your brother 

T. J. Stokes." 

This letter was read aloud to m}' mother, and the 
faithful mail carrier was not excluded. She listened 
and weig-hed every word of its contents. For several 
moments a silence reig-ned, which was broken by her 
asking me what I was going to do in the matter. 

" What would jou. have me do?" I asked in reply. 

"What would they do, Mary, in very cold weather, 
if they should lose their winter clothing, overcoats 
and blankets, now that supplies are so difficult to 
obtain ? " 

This question, evasive as it was, convinced me that 
my mother's patriotism was fully adequate to the 
occasion, and, fraught with peril as it might be, she 
was willing to bear her part of the consequences of 
taking- care of the soldiers' clothes. 

The return mail bore the following letter addressed 
jointly to General Granbury, Colonel Robert Young, 
Captains Lauderdale and Formwalt, Lieutenant 
Stokes, and Major John Y. Rankin ; 

"My Dear Brother and Friends :■ — I thank you 
for the estimate you have placed upon my character 
and patriotism, as indicated by your request that I 



nUBlKG THE WAR. 107 

should take care of your overcoats, blankets, etc., until 
you need them. If I were willing to enjoy the fruits 
of your valor and sacrifices without also being- willing- 
to share 3^our perils, I would be unworthy indeed. Yes, 
if I knew that for taking- care of those thing-s, I would 
subject m3'Self to real dang-er, I would essay the duty. 
Send them on. I will meet them in Atlanta, and see 
that they continue their journey to Decatur without 
delay. Your friend, 

M. A. H. G." 
Another mail brought intelligence of the shipment 
of the goods, and I lost no time in going to Atlanta 
and having them re-shipped to Decatur. There were 
nine large dry goods boxes, cind I went, immediately 
on their arrival, to Mr. E. Mason's and engaged his 
two-horse wagon and driver to carry them from the 
depot to our home. When they were brought, we had 
them placed in our company dining-room. This room, 
by a sort of tacit understanding, had become a store- 
room for the army before this important lot of goods 
came, and, as a dining-room, much incongruity of 
furniture existed, among which was a large, high 
wardrobe. The blinds were now closed and secured, 
the sash put down and fastened, the doors shut and 
locked, and this room given up to the occupancy of 
Confederate articles ; and thus it remained during the 
eventful period intervening between th'e departure of 
General Joseph E. Johnston's army from Dalton, and 
Sherman's infamous order to the people of Atlanta 
and vicinity to leave their homes, that they might be 
destroyed by his vandal hordes. 



108 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XII. 

A SCENE IN AN ATLANTA CONFEDERATE HOSPITAL. 

" Well, my boy, our patients are all g^etting- along- 
nicel}^ in the Fair Ground hospital," was the comfort- 
ing" assurance I g-ave to Toby, who was my faithful 
co-worker in all that pertained to the comfort of our 
soldiers. "Suppose we go to the Empire hospital 
and see what we can do there." 

" Yes'm, I have always wanted to go there." 

Taking one of the baskets we had brought with us 
from Decatur, and which contained biscuits, rusk, 
broiled and fried chicken, ground coffee and blackberry 
wine, I handed it to him and we wended our way to 
the hospital. Things were not in as good shape 
there as at the Fair Ground hospital. I perceived 
this at a glance, and, upon asking and receiving 
permission from the superintendent, I soon tidied up 
things considerably. Toby brought pails of fresh 
water, and aided in bathing the faces, hands and 
arms of the convalescing soldiers, while I hunted up 
the soldier lads who ought to have been at home with 
their mothers, and bestowed the tender loving service 
that woman only can give to the sick and suffering. 

Entering one of the wards I perceived a youth, or 
one I took to be a 3^outh, from his slender fragile 
figure, and his beardless face, lean and swarthy in 
sickness, but beautiful in its fine texture and the 



DURING THE WAR. 109 

marblelike whiteness of the brow. That he was of 
French extraction there could be no doubt. Quietly 
kneeling- by the side of his cot, I contemplated his 
face, his head, his iig-ure — I listened to his breathing", 
and watched the pulsations of his heart, and knew 
that his days, yea, his hours were numbered. Taking- 
his hand in mine, I perceived that the little vitality 
that remained was fast burning- up with fever. 
Putting- back the beautiful ring-s of raven hair that 
lay in disheveled clusters over his classic head, and 
partly concealed his white brow, I thoug-ht of his 
mother, and imprinted upon his forehead a kiss for 
her sake. The deep slumber induced by anodynes 
was broken by that touch, and a dazed awakening- 
ensued. " Mother," was his pathetic and only utter- 
ance. 

" What can I do for you, my dear child ?" 
There are looks and tones which are never forgot- 
ten, and never shall I forg-et the utter despair in the 
eyes, lustrous and beautiful enough to look upon the 
glory of heaven, and the anguish of the voice, musical 
enough to sing the songs of everlasting bliss, as he 
said in tremulous tone and broken sentences: 

" I want to see a Catholic priest. I have paid sev- 
eral men to go for me. They have gone off and never 
returned. I have no money with which to pay any 
one else." 

In silence I listened and wept. At length I said: 
" My dear young friend, can you not make confes- 
sion to 'our Father which art in Heaven,' and ask 
Him for Christ's sake to absolve you from all 
sins of which you may think yourself guilty ? He 



110 LIFE IN DIXIE 

will do it without the intervention of a priest, if jou 
will only believe on Him and trust Him. Can jou not 
do this ?" 

The pencil of Raphael would fail to depict the an- 
g-uish of his face ; all hope left it, and, as he turned 
his despairing- look upon the wall, tear drops glisten- 
ed in his eyes and filled the sunken hollows beneath 
them. Ag-ain I took his passive hand in mine, and 
with the other hand upon his white forehead, I told 
him he should see a priest — that I myself would g-o 
for one, and just as soon as he could be found I would 
return with him. Before leaving-, however, I went to 
the ward where I had left Toby and the basket, and 
filling- a little g-lass with wine, I brought it to the 
sinking- youth. He could not be induced to taste it. 
In vain I plead with him, and told him that it would 
streng-then him for the interview with the priest. " I 
am g"oing- now, and will come back, too, as soon as I 
can," I said to the dying- youth, for to all intents and 
purposes he was dying- then. Seeing- the other 
patients watching- my every movement with pathetic 
interest, I was reminded to g'ive the rejected wine to 
the weakest looking one of them. 

Leaving Toby either to wait on, or amuse the 
soldiers of the ward first entered (where I found him 
playing the latter role, much to their delight), with 
hasty steps I went to the Catholic parsonage on 
Hunter street. In response to my ring the door was 
opened by an Irish woman from whom I learned that 
the priest was not in, and would not be until he came 
to luncheon at 12 o'clock M. It was then 11 o'clock, 
and I asked the privilege of waiting in the sitting 



DUBIXG THE WAR. Ill 

room until he came. This being- granted, I entered 
the room consecrated to celibacy, and perhaps to holy 
thoug-hts, judg-ing- from the pictures upon the walls 
and the other ornaments. These thing-s furnished 
food for reflection, and the waiting* would not have 
seemed so long- but for the thoug-ht of the poor suffer- 
ing one who had g-iven his young- life for our cause. 
Intuitiv^ely I knew the sound of clerical footsteps as 
they entered the hall, and hastening- to meet him I 
asked, " Is this Father O'Riley?" Receiving- an 
affirmative answer, I told him of the youth at the 
Empire hospital who refused to be comforted other 
than b}^ a Catholic priest, and of my promise to bring- 
one to him. Father O'Riley said he had been out 
since early morning-, visiting- the sick, and would be 
oblig-ed to refresh himself, both by food and repose, 
but that I could say to the young- man that he would 
be there by 3 o'clock. " O, sir, 3^ou don't realize the 
importance of haste. Please let me remain in your 
sitting- room until you have eaten your luncheon, and 
then I know you will g-o with me. I, too, have been 
out ever since early morning- eng-ag-ed in the same 
Christ-like labors as yourself, and I do not require 
either food or repose." 

My earnestness prevailed, and in a short while we 
were at our destination. At my request. Father 
O'Riley waited in the passage-way leading to the 
ward until I went in to prepare the young man for his 
coming. I found him in that restless condition, 
neither awake nor asleep, which often precedes the 
deep sleep that knows no waking. Wetting my hand- 
kerchief with cold water, I bathed his face and hands, 



112 LIFE IJSr DIXIE 

and spoke g-ently to him, and, when he seemed sufS- 
cientl}^ aroused to understand me, I told him in cheer- 
ful tones that he could not g-uess who had come to see 
him. Catching- his look of inquiry, I told him it was 
Father O'Riley, and that I would bring- him in. 
Opening- the door, I motioned to Father O'Riley to 
follow me. The dying- youth and the Catholic priest 
needed no introduction by me. There was a mystic 
tie between them that I recog-nized as sacred, and I 
left them alone. Telling- Father O'Riley that I con- 
sig-ned my charg-e to him, and that I would come back 
to-morrow, I bade them g-ood-bye and left. 

The contents of the basket had been gratefully re- 
ceived and devoured by those who deserved the best 
in the land, because they were the land's defenders. 

To-morrow Toby and I, and the basket, were at 
the Empire hospital in due time, but the poor suffer- 
ing- youth was not there. The emancipated spirit 
had taken its fiig-ht to Heaven, and all that was mor- 
tal of that brave young soldier had been consigned by 
the ceremonies of the church he loved so well to the 
protecting care of mother earth. 



DURING THE WAIi. 11; 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Concealing- Confederate Clothing — Valuables Cari'ied to At- 
lanta—Toby Taken 111. 

On the way to the post-office early one morning- in 
the sultry month of July, 1864, to mail a number of 
letters which I deemed too important to be entrusted 
to other hands, I was accosted as follows by "Uncle 
Mack," the g"ood neg^ro blacksmith, whose shop was 
situated immediately upon the route : 

"Did you know, Miss Mary, that the Yankees have 
crossed the river, and are now this side of the Chatta- 
hoochee." 

"Why, no !" I said, and added with as much calm- 
ness as I could affect, "I do not know why I should be 
surprised — there is nothing- to prevent them from 
coming- into Decatur." 

With an imprecation more expressive than eleg-ant, 
that evil should overtake them before g-etting- here, he 
resumed hammering- at the anvil, and I my walk to 
the post-office. Nor was Uncle Mack the only one 
who volunteered the information that "The Yankees 
are coming--^they are this side the river." 

The time had come to devise means and methods 
of concealing- the winter clothing- and other accoutre- 
ments entrusted to my care by our dear soldiers. In 
order to save them, what should I do with them ? — 
was a question which I found myself unable to an- 



114 LIFE IN DIXIE 

swer. An attempt to retain and defend them would 
be futile indeed. And I have no rig-ht to jeopardize 
my mother's home by a rash effort to accomplish an 
impossibilty. But what shall I do with these precious 
thing's, is the question. A happy thoug-ht struck me, 
and I pursued it only to find it delusive. The near ap- 
proach of Sherman's army developed the astounding 
fact that Dr. A. Holmes, of Decatur, a Baptist minis- 
ter of some prominence, claimed to be a Union man, 
in full sympathy with any means that would soonest 
quell the rebellion. This I had not heard, and in my 
dilemma I went to him to impart my plans and ask 
advice. He was morose and reticent, and I hesitated ; 
but, driven by desperation, I finally said : "Dr. 
Holmes, as a minister of the g"ospel, are you not safe ? 
All civilized nations respect clerical robes, do they 
not ?" 

"I think so," he said, and continued by saying, "I 
have other claims upon the Federal army which will 
secure me from molestation." 

A look of surprise and inquiry being- my only 
answer, he said, "Amid the secession craze, I have 
never given up my alleg-iance to the United States." 

" Why, Dr. Holmes! " I said, in unfeig-ned surprise. 

"I repeat most emphatically that I have remained 
unshaken in my alleg-iance to the United States. I 
have no respect for a little contemptible Southern 
Confederacy, whose flag will never be recog-nized on 
land or on sea." 

This was a sad revelation to me. On more than 
one occasion I had heard Dr. Holmes pray fervently 
for the success of the Southern cause, and to hear 



nUBINQ THE WAli. 115 

such chang*ed utterances from him now, pained me 
exceeding-ly. Heartsore and discourag-ed, I turned 
from him, and was leaving- without the usual cere- 
mony, when he said : 

"What can I do for you? " 

"I came, sir, to ask a g-reat favor of you, but after 
hearing- you express yourself as you have, I deem it 
useless to make known my wishes. Good morning-." 

This interview with Dr. Holmes was very brief ; it 
did not consume as much time as it has done to tell it. 

I did not walk in those days, but ran, and it re- 
quired only a few moments to transfer the scene of 
action from Dr. Holmes' to my mother's residence. A 
hurried, whispered conversation acquainted her with 
the situation; and at m}^ request, and upon a plausible 
pretense, she took Toby to the depot where she 
remained until I sent for her. My confidence in Toby 
had not in the least diminished, but, being- a boy, I 
feared that he mi^ht have his price, or be intimida- 
ted by threats into the betrayal of our secret; hence 
the manag-ement as above related to g-et him off the 
place while I consummated a plan, which, if success- 
ful, would be a g-reat achievement, but, if a failure, 
would be fraug-ht with disaster. In those da3^s "the 
depot" was a place of popular resort— it was the 
emporium of news; and either from the ag-ent, or from 
the Confederate scouts that were ever and anon dash- 
ing- throug-h Decatur with cheerful messag-es and 
words of hope, the anxious mothers and sisters of the 
soldiers often wended their way there in hope of 
hearingf somethino- from their loved ones. Therefore 
no suspicion was aroused by this g*oing- to the depot. 



116 LIFE IN DIXIE 



Watching the receding- form of mj mother until she 
had passed out of the gate, and Toby had closed it 
after her, I then went to the rear door and motioned to 
Telitha, who chanced to be in the right place, to come 
into the house. After seeing that every outside door 
was thoroughly secure, I took her into the dining 
room where the boxes were which contained the win- 
ter clothing, blankets, etc., already mentioned as hav- 
ing been sent for storage by our soldier friends at Dal- 
ton, and told her in pantomime that the Yankees were 
coming, and if they saw these things they would kill 
us and burn the house. She fully understood and re- 
peated the pantomime illustrative of possible — 3^ea, 
probable — coming events, with pathetic effect. I 
showed her that I wanted a hammer and chisel with 
which to take off the lids of the boxes, and she 
brought them. The lids removed, each article was 
carefully lifted from its repository and placed on 
chairs. This important step being taken towards the 
concealment of the goods, I raised the sash and opened 
the shutters of the window nearest the cellar, which 
was unlocked and open, and Telitha, climbing out the 
window, received the boxes as I handed them to her, 
and carried them into the cellar. Old and soiled as 
the boxes were, they were not in a condition to create sus- 
picion of recent use, so from that source we had noth- 
ing to fear. Telitha again in the house, shutters closed, 
and sash down, preparation was resumed for the en- 
actment of a feat dangerous and rash, the thought of 
which, even at this remote period, almost produces a 
tremor. The wardrobe mentioned in a former sketch 
as an incongruity in a dining room, was emptied of its 



DURING THE WAR. 117 

contents, and inch b}- inch placed as near the center of 
the room as possible ; then a larg-e table was placed be- 
side it, and a chair upon that ; and then with the help 
of another chair, which served as a step, I g-ot upon 
the table and then upon the chair that was upon the 
table. As I went up, Telitha followed ; standing- upon 
the table she g-rasped the wardrobe with her strong- 
hands and held it securel}' . I ascended from the chair 
to the top of it, stood up and steadied myself, and 
waited, immovable as a statue, until she g-ot down 
and broug-ht the chisel and hammer and placed them 
at my feet, and resumed her hold upon the wardrobe. 
I stooped and picked up the utensils with which I had 
to work, and straig-htened and steadied myself ag-ain. 
The chisel touched the plastered ceiling- and the h^im- 
mering- beg-an. Very slow work it was at first, as the 
licks had to be upward instead of downward, and the 
plastering- was verj^ thick. Finally the chisel went 
throug-h and was withdrawn and moved to another 
place, and by repeated efforts I secured an aperture 
large enoug-h to insert my fing-ers, and a few well- 
directed licks round and about so cracked and weak- 
ened the plastering- that I was enabled to pull of some 
larg-e pieces. A new difficulty presented itself. The 
laths were long-, much long-er than those of the pres- 
ent day, and I not only had to make a large opening in 
the ceiling, but to take off the plastering without 
breaking the laths. More than once the wardrobe 
had to be moved that I might pull off the plastering, 
and then with the greatest care prize off the laths. At 
length the feat was accomplished, and I laid the lids 
of the boxes, which had been reserved for this pur- 



118 LIFE IN DIXIE 

pose, across the joists, and made a floor upon which to 
lay the g-oods more than once specified in these 
sketches. When the last article had been laid on this 
improvised shelf, I g^azed upon them in silent anguish 
and wept. Telitha caug-ht the melancholy inspira- 
tion and also wept. Kach lath was restored to its 
place and the perilous work was completed, and how I 
thanked the Lord for the steady nerve and level head 
that enabled me to do this service for those who were 
fig-hting- the battles of my country. 

But the debris must be removed. While the doors 
were yet closed and fastened, we pounded and broke 
the plastering- into very small pieces and filled every 
vessel and basket in the house. I then went out and 
walked very leisurely over the yard and lot, and 
lingered over every lowly flower that sweetened the 
atmosphere by its frag-rance, and when I was fully 
persuaded that no spy was lurking nigh I re-entered 
the house and locked the door. Picking up the 
larg-est vessel, and motioning Telitha to follow suit, 
I led the way throug-h a back door to a hug-e old ash 
hopper, and emptied the pulverized plastering into it. 
In this way we soon had every trace of it removed 
from the floor. The dust that had settled upon every- 
thing- was not so easily removed, but the frequent use 
of dusting brushes and flannel cloths disposed of the 
most of it. 

I now wrote a note to my mother, inviting her to 
come home, and to bring- Toby with her. We kept 
the doors of the dining room closed, as had been our 
wont for some time, and if Toby ever discovered the 
chang-e, he never betrayed the knowledg-e of it by 



DURING THE WAB. 119 

word or look. After a lig^ht breeikfast, and the excite- 
ment of the da}^ I felt that we oug"ht to have a g'ood, 
luscious dinner, and, with the help at my command, 
went to work preparing- it, and, as was my custom of 
late, I did not forg-et to provide for others who might' 
come in. More than once during- the day Confeder- 
ate scouts had g-alloped in and spoken a few words of 
encourag-ement ; and after taking- a drink of water 
from the old oaken bucket, had galloped out ag-ain, 
so I hoped the}^ would come back when the biscuit 
and tea-cakes were done, that I mig-ht fill their 
pockets. 

After the last meal of the day had been eaten, I 
held another whispered consultation with my mother, 
and in pursuance of the course ag-reed upon I 
emptied several trunks, and with her help filled one 
with quilts and blankets, and other bedding- ; another 
with china and cut glass, well packed ; and another 
with important papers, treasured relics, etc., and 
locked and strapped them ready for shipment next 
morning. 

A night of unbroken rest and sleep prepared me for 
another day of surprises and toil, and before dawn I 
was up, dressed, waiting for daylight enough to 
justify me in the effort to see Mr. Kzekiel Mason, and 
beg him to hire me his team and driver to carry 
the trunks to the depot. After my ready compliance 
with his terms, he agreed to send them as soon as 
possible. The delay caused me to go on a freight 
train to Atlanta, but I congratulated myself upon 
that privilege, as the trunks and Toby went on the 
same train. There was unusual commotion and activ- 



120 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ity about the depot in Atlanta, and a superficial 
observer would have been impressed with the business- 
like appearance of the little city at that important 
locality. Men, women, and children moved about as 
if they meant business. Trains came in rapidly, and 
received their complement of freig-ht, either animate 
or inanimate, and screamed themselves hoarse and 
departed, g-iving- place to others that went throug^h 
with the same routine. Drays and every manner of 
vehicles blocked the streets, and endang-ered life, limb, 
and property of all who could not vie with them in 
push, vim, and dare-deviltry. In vain did I appeal to 
scores of draymen, white and black, to carry my trunks 
to the home of Mr. McArthur, on Pryor street — money 
was offered with liberality, but to no avail. Despair- 
ing- of aid, I bade Toby follow me, and went to Mr. 
McArthur's. He and his g"ood wife were willing- to 
receive the trunks and give them storag-e room, but 
could extend no aid in bring-ing- them there. At leng-th, 
as a last resort, it was decided that Toby should take 
their wheelbarrow and bring- one trunk at a time. I 
returned with him to the depot and had the most valu- 
able trunk placed upon the wheelbarrow, and, with my 
occasional aid, Toby g-ot it to its destination. A 
second trip was made in like manner, and the third 
was not a failure, althoug-h I saw that Tob}- was very 
tired. Thanking- my g-ood friends for the favor they 
were extending-, I hurried back to the depot, myself and 
Toby, to take the first train to Decatur. Imag-ine our 
consternation on learning- that the Yankees had dashed 
in and torn up the Georg-ia Railroad track from At- 
lanta to Decatur, and were pursuing- their destructive 



nUBlNG THE WAE. 121 

work towards Augusta. Neither for love nor money 
could a seat in any kind of vehicle g'oing- in that direc- 
tion be obtained, nor were I and my attendant tlie only 
ones thus cut off from home ; and I soon discovered 
that a spirit of independence pervaded the crowd. 
Many were the proud possessors of eleg-ant spans of 
"little white ponies" which they did not deem too 
g-ood to propel them homeward. Seeking- to infuse a 
little more life and animation into Toby, I said : 

"Well, my boy, what do you think of bring-ing- out 
your little black ponies and running a race with my 
white ones to Decatur? Do you think 3'OU can beat in 
the race?" 

"I don't know'm," he said, without his usual smile, 
when I essayed a little fun with him, and I evidently 
heard him sigh. But knowing there was no alterna- 
tive, I started in a brisk walk towards Decatur, and 
said to him, "Come on, or I'll get home before you 
do." He rallied and kept very close to me, and we 
made pretty good time. The gloaming was upon us, 
the period of all others auspicious to thought, and to 
thought I abandoned myself. The strife between the 
sections of a once glorious country was a prolific 
theme, and I dwelt upon it in all of its ramifications, 
and failed to find cause for blame in my peculiar peo- 
ple; and m}^ step became prouder, and my willingness 
to endure all things for their sakes and mine was 
more confirmed. In the midst of these inspiring 
reflections, Toby, who had somewhat lagged behind, 
came running up to me and said: 

"Oh! Miss Mary, just look at the soldiers. And 
they are ours, too!" 



122 LIFE IN DIXIE 

To my dying- da}' I shall never forg-et the scene to 
which he called my attention. In the weird stillness 
it appeared as if the Lord had raised up of the stones 
a mig-hty host to fig"ht our battles. Not a sound was 
heard, nor a word spoken, as those in the van passed 
opposite me, on and on, and on, in the direction of 
Decatur, in what seemed to me an interminable line 
of soldiery. Toby and I kept the track of the de- 
stroyed railroad, and were somewhere between Gen- 
eral Gartrell's residence and Mr. Pitts', the midway 
station between Atlanta and Decatur, when the first 
of these soldiers passed us, and we were at Kirkwood 
when that spectre-like band had fully g-one. Once 
the moon revealed me so plainly that a cheer, some- 
what repressed, but nevertheless hearty, resounded 
through the woods, and I asked : 

"Whose command?" 

'•"Wheeler's Cavalr}-," was the simultaneous re- 
sponse of many who heard my inquiry. 

"Don't you know me ? I am the one 5^ou g"ave the 
best breakfast I ever ate, that morning- we dashed into 
Decatur before sun-up." 

"And I'm the one too." 

"O, don't mention it," I said. "You are g-iving- 
your lives for me, and the little I can do for 3^ou is 
nothing- in comparison. May God be with 3'ou and 
shield you from harm until this cruel war is over." 

I missed Toby, and looking- back, saw him sitting- 
down. I hurried to him, sa^dng, "What is it, my boy?" 

"O, Miss Mary, I am so sick. I can't g-o any fur- 
ther. You can g-o on home, and let me stay here — 
when I feel better I'll g-o too." 



DUBING THE WAR. 123 

"No, my boy, I'll not leave you." And sitting- by 
him I told him to rest his head upon my lap, and 
maybe after awhile he would feel better, and then we 
would go on. In the course of a half hour he vomited 
copiously, and "soon after he told me he felt better, 
and would try to g-o on. More than once his steps 
were unsteady and he looked dazed ; but under my 
patient g-uidance and encourag-ing- words he kept up 
and we pursued our lonely walk until we reached 
Decatur. 

As soon as we entered the town, we perceived that 
we had overtaken Wheeler's Cavalry. They were 
lying- on the g-round, asleep, all over the place ; and in 
most instances their horses were lying- by them, sleep- 
ing- too. And I noticed that the soldiers, even though 
asleep, never released their hold upon the bridles. 
At home I found my mother almost frantic. She 
knew nothing- of the causes detaining me, and sup- 
posed that some disaster had befallen me individually. 
A g-ood supper, including- a strong- cup of tea prepared 
by her hands, awaited us, and I attested my apprecia- 
tion of it by eating heartily. Toby drank a cup of 
tea only, and said he "was very tired and hurt all 
over." 



124 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The advance guard of the Yankee army — I am ordered out — A 
noble Federal. 

The day clear, brig-ht and beautiful, in July, 1864, 
and thoug-h a midsummer's sun cast its vertical rays 
upon the richly-carpeted earth, refreshing- showers 
tempered the heat and preserved in freshness and 
beauty the vernal robes of May and kept the atmos- 
phere pure and delig-htful. Blossoms of every hue 
and frag-rance decked the landscape, and Ceres and 
Pomona had been as lavish with their g-rains and fruits 
as Flora had been with flowers. 

And I, assisted b}^ Toby and Telitha, had g-athered 
from the best of these rich offering's, and prepared a 
feast for Wheeler's Cavalry. B}^ the way, strive 
ag"ainst it as I would, I was more than once disturbed 
by the mental inquir^^ : "What has become of Wheel- 
er's Cavalry? I saw it enter Decatur last night, and 
now there is not a soldier to be seen. It is true a 
larg-e number of scouts came in this morning-, and 
spoke comforting- words to my mother, and reconnoi- 
tered around town fearlessly, but what has become of 
them?" Hope whispered: "Some strateg-ic move- 
ment that will culminate in the capture of the entire 
Yankee army, no doubt is eng-ag-ing- its attention." 
Yielding- to these delusive reflections, and the seduc- 



DURING THE WAR. 125 

tive influence of earth, air and sky, I became quite 
exhilarated and hummed little snatches of the song's I 
used to sing- in the happy days of childhood, before a 
hope had been disappointed or a shadow cast over my 
pathwa}^ 

These scenes and these song-s were not in keeping- 
with the impending- disasters even then at our portals. 
Crapen draperies and funeral dirges would have been 
far more in keeping with the developments of the day. 

Distant roar of cannon and sharp report of mus- 
ketry spoke in lang-uag-e unmistakable the approach of 
the enemy, and the rapidity of that approach was 
becoming- fearfully alarming-. Decatur offered many 
advantag-es as headquarters to an invading, devastat- 
ing- foe, "and three hundred thousand men" under 
the guidance of a merciless foe ought to have entered 
it long before they did — and would have done so if 
their bravery had been commensurate with their van- 
dalism. 

"Yank! Yank!" exclaimed our deaf negro girl, 
Telitha, as she stroked her face as if stroking beard, 
and ran to get a blue garment to indicate the color of 
their apparel, and this was our first intimation of their 
appearance in Decatur. If all the evil spirits had been 
loosed from Hades, and Satan himself had been turned 
loose upon us, a more terrfic, revolting scene could 
not have been enacted. 

Advance guards, composed of every species of 
criminals ever incarcerated in the prisons of the 
Northern States of America, swooped down upon us, 
and every species of deviltry followed in their foot- 
steps. My poor mother, frightened and trembling. 



126 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and myself, having" locked the doors of the house, took 
our stand with the servants in the yard, and witnessed 
the g"rand enlrc of the menag-erie. One of the beasts 
g-ot down upon his all-fours and pawed up the dust 
and bellowed like an infuriated bull. And another 
asked me if I did not expect to see them with hoofs 
and horns. I told him, "No, I had expected to see 
some gentlemen among them, and was sorry I should 
be disappointed." 

My entire exemption from fear on that occasion 
must have been our safeguard, as no personal 
violence was attempted. He who personated a bull 
must have been the king's fool, and was acting in 
collusion with the house pillagers sent in advance 
of the main army to do their dirty w;ork, and to 
reduce the people to destitution and dependence. 
While he thought he was entertaining- us with his 
quadrupedal didos, a horde of thieves were rummaging- 
the house, and ever3^thing- of value they could g-et 
their hands upon they stole — locks and bolts having- 
proved ineifectual barriers to this nefarious work. By 
this time the outside marauders had killed every 
chicken and other fowl upon the place, except one set- 
ting hen. A fine cow, and two calves, and twelve 
hogs shared a similar fate. 

Several hours had passed since the coming- of the 
first installment of the G. A. R., and a few scattering 
officers were perambulating- the streets, and an oc- 
casional cavalryman reconnoitering-. Having sur- 
veyed the situation, and discovered that only women 
and children and a few faithful negroes occupied the 
town, the main armv came in like an avalanche. 



DURING THE WAJi. 127 

Yea, if an avalanche and a simoon had blended their 
fury and expended it upon that defenceless locality, a 
greater chang-e could scarcely have been wroug-ht. 

The morning-'s sun had shone upon a scene of 
luxuriant beauty, and heig-htened its midsummer 
loveliness, but the same sun, only a few hours later, 
witnessed a complete transformation, and blight and 
desolation reig-ned supreme. My mother and myself, 
afraid to g"o in the house, still maintained our out- 
door position, and our two faithful servants clung- 
very close to us, notwithstanding- repeated efforts to 
induce them to leave. Our g-roup had received addi- 
tion. Kmmeline, a neg-ro girl whom we had hired 
out in Decatur, had been discharg-ed, and had now 
come home. She was not so faithful as her kith and 
kin, and was soon on familiar terms with the bum- 
mers. Toby complained of being- very tired, and 
when we all came to think about it, we discovered 
that we, too, were tired, and without being- asked took 
seats upon the capacious lap of mother earth. As we 
were not overly particular about the position we 
assumed, we must have presented quite an aborig-inal 
appearance. But what mattered it — we were only 
rebels. Notwithstanding- the insignia of the con- 
queror was displayed on every hand, we felt to a 
certain degree more protected by the presence of com- 
missioned officers, and ventured to go into the house. 
I will not attempt a description of the change that had 
taken place since we had locked the door, and, for 
better protection, had taken our stand in the yard, 

Garrard's Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of 
several acres, for headquarters, and soon what ap- 



128 LIFE^ IN DIXIE 

peared to us to be an immense arm}- train of wag-ons 
commenced rolling- into it. In less than two hours 
our barn was demolished and converted into tents, 
which were occupied by privates and non-commis- 
sioned officers, and to the balusters of our portico and 
other portions of the house were tied a number of 
larg-e ropes, which, the other ends being- secured to 
trees and shrubbery, answered as a railing- to which 
at short intervals apart a number of smaller ropes 
were tied, and to these were attached horses and 
mules, which were eating- corn and oats out of troug-hs 
improvised for the occasion out of bureau, washstand, 
and wardrobe drawers. 

Men in groups were playing- cards on tables of 
every size and shape ; and whisky and profanity held 
hig-h carnival. Thus surrounded we could but be 
apprehensive of dang-er ; and, to assure ourselves of 
as much safety as possible, we barricaded the doors 
and windows, and arranged to sit up all night, that 
is, my mother and myself. 

Toby complained of being very tired, and "hurt- 
ing all over," as he expressed it. We assisted him in 
making the very best pallet that could be made of the 
material at our command, and he lay down completely 
prostrated. Telitha was wide awake, and whenever 
she could secure a listener chattered like a magpie in 
unintelligible language, accompanied by unmistakable 
gestures — gestures which an accomplished elocution- 
ist might adopt with effect — and the burden of her 
heart was for Kmmeline. Kmmeline having repudi- 
ated our protection, had sought shelter, the Lord only 
knows where. Alas, poor girl ! 



DVRING THE WAB. 129 

As we sat on a loung-e, every chair having- been 
taken to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps 
entering- the piazza, and in a moment, loud rapping-, 
which meant business. Going- to the window nearest 
the door, I removed the fastening-s, raised the sash, 
and opened the blinds. Perceiving- by the lig-ht of a 
brilliant moon that at least a half-dozen men in uni- 
forms were on the piazza, I asked : 

"Who is there?" 

"Gentlemen," was the laconic reply. 

"If so, you will not persist in your effort to come 
into the house. There is only a widow and one of 
her daug-hters, and two faithful servants in it," I said. 

"We have orders from headquarters to interview 
Miss Gay. Is she the daug-hter of whom you speak? " 

"She is, and I am she." 

"Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing- you, without 
intervening- barriers. Our orders are imperative," 
said he who seemed to be the spokesman of the dele- 
g-ation. 

"Then wait a moment," I amiably responded. 
Going- to my mother I repeated in substance the above 
colloquy, and asked her if she would g-o with me out 
of one of the back doors and around the house into 
the front yard. Althoug-h g-reatly ag-itated and trem- 
bling", she readily assented, and we noiselessly went 
out. In a few moments we announced our presence, 
and our visitors descended the steps and joined us. 
And those men, occupying- a bellig-erent attitude 
towards ourselves and all that was dear to us, stood 
face to face and in silence contemplated each other. 
When the silence was broken the aforesaid officer 



130 LIFE IX DIXIE 

introduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of 
General Schofield's staif. He also introduced the 
accompanying- officers each by name and title. This 
ceremony over, Major Campbell said : 

"Miss Gay, our mission is a painful one, and yet 
we will have to carry it out unless you satisfactorily 
explain acts reported to us." 

"What is the nature of those acts?" 

"We have been told that it is your proudest boast 
that you are a rebel, and that you are ever on duty to 
aid and abet in every possible way the would-be 
destroyers of the United States g-overnment. If this 
be so, we cannot permit ^-ou to remain within our 
lines. Until Atlanta surrenders, Decatur will be our 
headquarters, and every consideration of interest to 
our cause requires that no one inimical to it should 
remain within our boundaries established by con- 
quest." 

In reply to these charg-es, I said : 

"Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so 
far as the charg-es you mention are concerned. If I 
were a man, I should be in the foremost ranks of those 
who are fig-hting- for rig-hts g-uaranteed by the Consti- 
tution of the United States. The Southern people 
have never broken that compact, nor infring-ed upon 
it in any way. They have never org-anized mobs to 
assassinate any portion of the people sharing- the priv- 
ileg-es g-ranted b}^ that compact. They have con- 
structed no underg-round railroads to bring- into our 
midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, and 
to carry off stolen property. They have never soug-ht 
to array the subordinate element of the North in 



DVBING THE WAB. 131 

deadly hostility to the controlling- element. No class 
of the women of the South have ever sought positions 
at the North which secured entrance into g^ood house- 
holds, and then betrayed the confidence reposed by 
corrupting the servants and alienating" the relations 
between the master and the servant. No class of the 
women of the South have ever mounted the rostrum 
and proclaimed falsehoods against the women of the 
North — falsehoods which must have crimsoned with 
shame the very cheeks of Beelzebub. 

"No class of the men of the South have ever 
tramped over the North with humbug's, extorting* 
money either throug"h sympathy or credulity, and en- 
g-ag-ed at the same time in the nefarious work of excit- 
ing- the subordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine 
and murder. If the South is in rebellion, a well- 
organized mob at the North has broug-ht it about. 
Long years of patient endurance accomplished noth- 
ing-. The party founded on falsehood and hate 
streng-thened and g-rew to enormous proportions. 
And, by the way, mark the cunning- of that party. 
Finding- that the Abolition party made slow prog-ress 
and had to work in the dark, it chang-ed its name and 
took in new issues, and by a systematic course of 
lying- in its institutions of learning-, from the lowly 
school-house to Yale Colleg-e, and from its pulpits and 
rostrums, it inculcated lessons of hate towards the 
Southern people whom it would hurl into the crater 
of Vesuvius if endowed with the power. What was 
left us to do but to try to relieve that portion of the 
country which had permitted this sentiment of hate to 
predominate, of all connection with us, and of all 



132 LIFE IN DIXIE 

responsibility for the sins of which it proclaimed us 
g-uilty ? This effort the South has made, and I have 
aided and abetted in every possible manner, and will 
continue to do so just as long- as there is an armed 
man in the Southern ranks. If this be sufficient cause 
to expel me from my home, I await your orders. I 
have no favors to ask." 

Imag-ine my astonishment, admiration and g-rati- 
tude, when that g-roup of Federal officers, with unani- 
mit}^ said : 

"I g-lory in 3^our spunk, and am proud of 3^ou as 
my countrywoman ; and so far from banishing- you 
from your home, we will vote for j^our retention with- 
in our lines." 

Thus the truth prevailed ; but a new phase of the 
conflict was inaug-urated, as proved by subsequent 
developments. 

Turning- to my mother. Major Campbell said : 

"Mother, how did our advance g-uards treat you?" 

A quivering of the lips, and a tearful effort to 
speak, was all the response she could make. The 
ag-g-ravation of already extreme nervousness was 
doing- its work. 

"Would 3^ou like to see?" I said. He indicated 
rather than expressed an affirmative answer. 

I went around and entered the house, and, opening- 
the front door, invited him and his friends to come in. 
A hindrance to the exhibit I was anxious to make pre- 
sented itself — we had neither candle nor lamp, and 
this I told to the officers. Calling- to a man in the 
nearest camp. Major Campbell asked him to bring- a 
light. This being done, I led the way into the front 



DVRING THE WAR. 133 

room, and there our disting-uished guests were con- 
fronted by a hug"e pallet occupied by a sixteen-year- 
old neg-ro boy. A thrill of amusement evidently 
passed throug-h this g-roup of western men, and elec- 
trical glances conveyed messages of distrust when I 
told them of my walk yesterday afternoon, accompa- 
nied by this boy, and his exhaustion before we got 
home, and his complaints of "hurting all over" 
before he lay down an hour ago. 

A low consultation was held, and one of the officers 
left and soon returned with another who proved to be 
a physician. He aroused the boy, asked several ques- 
tions, and examined his pulse and tongue. 

" That will do," said he, and turning to the others, 
he said : 

"He is a very sick boy, and needs medical treat- 
ment at once. I will prescribe and go for the med- 
icine, which I wish given according to directions." 

Having received a statement of the boy's condition 
from a trusted source, we were evidently re-instated 
into the good opinion of Major Campbell and his 
friends. Telitha had retired from them to as great a 
distance as the boundaries of the room would permit, 
and every time she caught my eye she looked and 
acted what she could not express in words — utter 
aversion for the " Yank." 

We now resumed our inspection of the interior of 
the house. The contents of every drawer were on the 
floor, every article of value having been abstracted. 
Crockery scattered all over the room, suggested to the 
eye that it had been used to pelt the ghosts of the 
witches burned in Massachusetts a century or two 



134 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ag-o. Outrages and indig^nities too revolting- to men- 
tion met the eye at every turn. And the state of 
affairs in the parlor baffled description. Not an 
article had escaped the destroyer's touch bnt the 
piano, and circumstances v^hich followed proved that 
that was regarded as a trophy and only waited re- 
moval. 

"Vandals ! Vandals !" Major Campbell sorrowfully 
exclaimed, and all his friends echoed the opinion, and 
said : 

" If the parties who did this work could be identi- 
fied, we would hang- them as high as Haman." 

But these parties were never identified. They were 
important adjuncts in the process of subjug-ation. 

After wishing- that the worst was over with us, 
these gentlemen, who had come in no friendly mood, 
bade us g-ood night and took their leave. Thus the 
Lord of Hosts, in his infinite mercy, furnished a just 
tribunal to pass judgment upon my acts as a Southern 
woman, and that judgment, influenced by facts and 
surroundings, was just and the verdict humane. 



J 



nUIUNG THE WAR. 135 



CHAPTER XV. 

The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The Death of Toby. 

The excitement incident to the morning- and even- 
ing- of 3"esterday left my mother and myself in no 
frame of mind for repose, and we spent the nig-ht in 
suspense and painful apprehension of trouble yet to 
come greater and more dreadful than that through 
which we had passed. The medicine left for Toby by 
the physician summoned last night was faithfully 
administered according- to direction, and the morning 
found him better, thoug-h able to vSit up only for a short 
while at a time. Measles had developed, and we felt 
hopeful that it would prove to be a very slight attack ; 
and such it mig-ht have been could we have controlled 
him properly, but the excitement and ever-varying- 
scenes in the 3'ard, and as far as vision extended, were 
so new and strang-e to him that, when unobserved, he 
spent much of his time at a window commanding- the 
best view of the scene, and, thus exposed to a current 
of air, the disease ceased to appear on the surface and 
a troublesome coug-h ensued. 

Having been without food since the preceding- 
morning-, our thoug-hts turned to the usual prepara- 
tion for breakfast, but alas, those preparations had 
to be dispensed of, as we had nothing- to prepare. 
This state of affairs furnished food for at least seri- 
ous reflection, and the inquiry, " What are we to do ?" 



136 LIFE IN DlilE 

found audible expression. The inexorable demands 
of hung-er could not be stifled, and we knew that the 
sick boj needed hot tea and the nourishment which 
food alone could g"ive, and jet we had nothing- for our- 
selves or for him — so complete had been the robbery 
of the " advance g-uards" of the Grand Army of the 
Republic that not a thin^, animate or inanimate, re- 
mained with which to appease our hung-er. "What 
are we to do ?" was iterated and reiterated, and no 
solution of the question presented itself. Even then 
appetizing- odors from the camp-fires were diffusing- 
themselves upon the air and entering- our house, but 
aliens were preparing- the food and we had no part in 
it. We debated this question, and finally resolved not 
to expose ourselves to the jeers and insults of the 
enemy by an act of ours that would seem to ask for 
food ; but that we would g-o to our Southern citizens 
in the war-stricken and almost deserted town, and, if 
they were not completely robbed, ask them to share 
their supplies with us until we could procure aid from 
outside of the lines so arbitrarily drawn. 

In this dilemma an unexpected relief came to us, 
and convinced us that there was g-ood even in Naza- 
reth. A larg-e tray, evidently well-filled, and covered 
with a snow-white cloth, was brought in by an Irish- 
man, who handed a card to my mother containing 
these words : 

"To Mrs. Stokes and daug-hter. Miss Gay, with 
compliments of (Major) CampbeIvL. 

"Please accept this small testimonial of reg-ard 
and respectful sympathy." 

The latter part of the brief messag-e was the 



DURING THE WAll. 137 

sesame that secured acceptance of this offering-, and 
my mother and myself jointly acknowledg-ed it with 
sincere thanks, and again we thought of Elijah and 
the ravens. The contents of the tray — coffee, sugar, 
and tea, sliced ham and a variety of canned relishes, 
butter, potatoes, and oatmeal and bread, were removed 
and the tray returned. That tray on its humane mis- 
sion, having found its way into our house, more than 
once opportunely reappeared. We enjoyed the repast 
thus furnished, although briny tears were mingled 
with it. 

The day passed without%ny immediate adventure. 
Great activity prevailed in army ranks. The coming 
and going of cavalry ; the' clatter of sabre and spur ; 
the constant booming of cannon and report of mus- 
ketry, all convinced us that the surrender of Atlanta 
by the Confederates was quite a matter of time. A 
few thousand men, however brave and gallant, could 
not cope successfully with " three hundred thousand" 
who ignored every usage of civilized warfare, and 
fought only for conquest. 

I cannot say how long this state of affairs lasted 
before Wheeler's Cavalry, supported by Confederate 
infantry, stole a march upon the Yankees and put 
them to flight. Garrard and his staff officers were in 
our parlor — their parlor p7'o teni. — holding a council; 
the teamsters and army followers were lounging about 
promiscuously, cursing and swearing and playing 
cards, and seeming not to notice the approaching ar- 
tillery until their attention was called to it, and then 
they contended that it was their men firing off blank 
cartridges. I intuitively felt that a conflict was on 

10 



138 LIFE IN DIXIE 

hand. Ma and I held whispered conversations and 
went from one window to another, and finally rushed 
into the yard. Men in the camps observed our excite- 
ment and said, " Don't be alarmed, it is only our men 
firing off their blank cartridges." 

The irony of fate was never more signally illus- 
trated than on this occasion. I would have laid down 
my life, yea, a thousand breathing, pulsing lives of 
my own, to have witnessed the overthrow of the 
Yankee army, and yet, I may have been the means of 
saving a large portion of it on that occasion. Dread- 
ing for my mother's sake and for the sake of the deaf 
girl and the sick boy, an attack upon the forces which 
covered our grounds, I rati to one of the parlor doors 
and knocked heavily and excitedly. An officer un- 
locked the door and opening it said : 

"What is it?" 

"Our men must be nearly here," I replied. 

"Impossible," he said, and yet, with a bound he 
was in the yard, followed in quick succession by each 
member of the conclave. 

A signal, long, loud, and shrill, awakened the 
drowsy, and scattered to the four winds of heaven 
cards, books and papers ; and, in a few minutes, horses 
and mules were hitched to wagons, and the mules, 
wagons and men were fairly flying from the approach 
of the Confederates. Women and children came pour- 
ing in from every direction, and the house was soon 
filled. Before Garrard's wagon train was three hun- 
dred yards awa}^ our 3^ard was full of our men — our 
own dear "Johnnie Rebs." Oothcaloga Valley boys, 
whom I had known from babyhood, kissed, in pass- 



DUBING THE WAB. 139 

ing-, the hand that waved the handkerchief. An 
officer, ah, how g-rand he looked in g"ray uniform, 
came dashing up and said : 

" Go in your cellar and lie down; the Federals are 
forming a line of battle, and we, too, will form one 
that will reach across the grounds, and your house 
will be between the two lines. Go at once." 

M}^ mother ran and got Toby's shoes and put them 
on for him, and told him to get up and come with 
her, and as he went out of the house, tottering, I 
threw a blanket over him, and he and Telitha went 
with ma to our near neighbor, Mrs. Williams, her 
cellar being considered safer than ours. I remained 
in our house for the twofold purpose of taking care 
of it, if possible, and of protecting, to the best of my 
ability, the precious women and children who had 
fled to us for protection. Without thought of myself 
I got them all into the room that I thought would be 
safest, and urged them to lie down upon the floor 
and not to move during the battle. Shot and shell 
flew in every direction, and the shingles on the roof 
were following suit, and the leaves, and the limbs, and 
the bark of the trees were descending in showers so 
heavy as almost to obscure the view of the contending 
forces. The roaring of cannon and the sound of 
musketry blended in harmony so full and so grand, 
and the scene was so absorbing, that I thought not of 
personal danger, and more than once found myself 
outside of the portals ready to rush into the conflict — 
for was not I a soldier, enlisted for the war? Nor 
was I the only restless, intrepid person in the house 
on that occasion. An old lady, in whose veins flowed 



140 LIFE IX DIXIE 

the blood of the Washing-tons, was there, and it was 
with the greatest difficulty that I restrained her from 
g-oin^ out into the arena of warfare. The traditions 
of her ancestors were so interwoven with her life, that, 
at an ag"e bordering- on four score ^^ears and ten, the}^ 
could not relax their hold upon her ; and she and I 
mig-ht have g-one in opposite directions had we fled to 
the ranks of the contending- armies. 

Mine was, no doubt, the only feminine eye that 
witnessed the complete rout of the Federals on that oc- 
casion. At first I could not realize what they were 
doing", and feared some strategic movement ; but the 
"rebel yell" and the flying- blue-coats broug-ht me to a 
full realization of the situation, and I too joined in 
the loud acclaim of victory. And the women and 
children, until now panic-stricken and silent as death, 
joined in the rejoicing-. All the discouragement of 
the past few weeks fled from me, and hope revived, 
and I was happy, oh, so happy ! I had seen a splendidly 
equipped army, Schofield's division, I think, ignom- 
iniously flee from a little band of lean, lank, hungry, 
poorly-clad Confederate soldiers, and I doubted not an 
over-ruling Providence would lead us to final victor3\ 

When the smoke of the battle cleared away, my 
mother and her ebony charge returned home. Toby 
quickly sought his pallet, and burning fever soon ren- 
dered him delirious the greater part of the time. In 
one of his lucid intervals, he asked me to read the 
Bible to him, and he told me what he wanted me to 
read about, and said : 

"Miss Missouri used to read it to me, and I 
thought it was so pretty." And I read to him the 



DUBING THE WAB. 141 

story of the cross— of Jesus' dying- love, and he listened 
and believed. I said to him : 

" My boy, do you think you are g-oing- to die ?" 

" Yes'm, I think I am." 

I bowed my head close to him and wept, oh, how 
bitterly. 

"Miss Mary, don't you think I'll g-o to heaven?" 
he anxiously asked. 

" Toby, my boy, there is one thing- I want to tell 
you ; can jou listen to me ?" 
"Yes'm." 

"I have not always been just to j^ou. I have often 
accused you of doing- thing-s that I afterwards found 
you did not do, and then I was not g-ood enough to ac- 
knowledg-e that I had done wrong-. And when you 
did wrong-, I was not forg-iving-enoug-h ; and more than 
once I have punished you for little sins, when I, with 
all the lig-ht before me, was committing- g-reater ones 
every day, and g-oing- unpunished, save by a g-uilty 
conscience. And now, my boy, I ask you to forg-ive 
me. Can you do it ?" 
"Oh, yes'm !" 

"Are you certain that you do ? Are you sure that 
there is no unforg-iving- spirit in you towards your 
poor Miss Mary, who is sorry for all she has ever 
done that was wrong- towards you." 
"Oh, yes'm!" 

"Then, my boy, ask the Lord to forg-ive you for 
your sins just as I have asked you to forg-ive me, and 
He will do it for the sake of Jesus, who died on the 
cross that sinners mig-ht be redeemed from their sins 
and live with Him in heaven." 



142 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I can never forg-et the ineffable love, and faith, and 
gratitude, depicted in that poor boj's face, while I live; 
and as I held his soft black hand in mine, I thoug-ht 
of its willing- service to "our boys," and wept to think 
I could do no more for him, and that his young- life 
was g-oing- out before he knew the result of the cruel 
war that was wag-ed by the Abolitionists ! He noticed 
my g-rief, and beg-g-ed me not to feel so badly, and 
added that he was willing- to die. 

I arose from my position by his bed and asked him 
if there was anything- in the world I could do for him. 
In reply he said : 

"I would like to have a drink of water from the 
Floyd spring-." 

"You shall have it, my boy, just as soon as I can 
g-o there and back," and I took a pitcher and ran to 
the spring- and filled and refilled it several times, that 
it mig-ht be perfectl}^ cool, and went back with it as 
quickly as possible. He drank a g-oblet full of this 
delicious water and said it was "so g-ood," and then 
added : 

"You drink some, too, Miss Mary, and g-ive Miss 
Polly some." 

I did so, and he was pleased. He coug-hed less 
and complained less than he had done since the 
chang-e for the worse, and I deluded myself into the 
hope that he mig-ht yet recover. In a short while he 
went to sleep, and his breathing- became very hard 
and his temperature indicated a hig-h deg-ree of fever. 
I urg-ed my mother to lie down, and assured her that 
if I thoug-ht she could do anything- for Toby at any 
time during- the nig-ht I would call her. 



DURING THE WAR. 143 

I sat there alone by that dying- boy. Not a move- 
ment on his part betrayed pain. His breathing- was 
hard and at intervals spasmodic. With tender hands 
I chang-ed the position of his head, and for a little 
while he seemed to breathe easier. But it was only 
for a little while, and then it was evident that soon 
he would cease to breathe at all. I went to my mother 
and waked her g-ently and told her I thought the end 
was near with Toby, and hurried back to him. I 
thoug-ht him dead even then; but, after an interval, he 
breathed ag-ain and ag-ain, and all was over. The 
life had g-one back to the God who g-ave it, and I 
doubt not but that it will live with Him forever. 
The pathos of the scene can never be understood by 
those who have not witnessed one similar to it in all 
its details, and I will not attempt to describe it. No 
timepiece marked the hour, but it was about mid- 
nig-ht, I ween, when death set the spirit of that 
youthful negro free. Not a kindred being nor a mem- 
ber of his own race was near to lay loving hand upon 
him, or prepare his little body for burial. We stood 
and gazed upon him as he lay in death in that desolated 
house, and thought of his fidelity and loving interest 
in our cause and its defenders, and of his faithful ser- 
vice in our efforts to save something from vandal hands; 
and the fountain of tears was broken up and we wept 
with a peculiar grief over that lifeless form. 

My mother was the first to become calm, and she 
came very near me and said, as if afraid to trust her 
voice : 

"Wouldn't it be well to ask Eliza Williams and 
others to come and 'lay him out?' " 



144 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Before acting- on this suggestion I went into an- 
other room and waked Telitha and took her into the 
chamber of death. A dim and g-limmering- light pre- 
vented her from taking in the full import of the scene 
at first ; but I took her near the couch, and, pointing 
to him, I said : 

"Dead!— Dead!" 

She repeated interrogatively, and, when she fully 
realized that such was the case, her cries were piti- 
able, oh, so pitiable. 

I sank down upon the floor and waited for the par- 
oxysm of grief to subside, and then went to her and 
made her understand that I was going out and that 
she must stay with her mistress until I returned. An 
hour later, under the manipulation of good "Eliza 
Williams" — known thoughout Decatur as Mrs. Ammi 
Williams' faithful servant — and one or two others 
whom she brought with her, Toby was robed in a nice 
white suit of clothes prepared for the occasion by the 
faithful hands of his " Miss Polly," whom he had 
loved well and who had cared for him in his orphan- 
age. 

We had had intimation that the Federals would 
again occupy Decatur, and as soon as day dawned I 
went to see Mr. Robert Jones, Sen., and got him to 
make a coffin for Toby, and I then asked "Uncle 
Mack," and "Henry" — now known as Decatur's 
Henry Oliver — to dig the grave. Indeed, these two 
men agreed to attend to the matter of his burial. 
After consultation with my mother, it was agreed 
that that should take place as soon as all things were 
in readiness. Mr. Jones made a pretty, well-shaped 



DURING THE WAR. 145 

coffin out of g-ood heart pine, and the two faithful 
negro men already mentioned prepared with care the 
grave. When all was in readiness, the dead boy was 
placed in the coffin and borne to the g-rave by Very 
gentle hands. 

Next to the pall-bearers my mother and myself 
and Telitha fell in line, and then followed the few 
negroes yet remaining in the town, and that funeral 
cortege was complete. 

At the grave an unexpected and most welcome 
stranger appeared. "Uncle Mack " told me he was a 
minister, and would perform the funeral service — and 
grandly did he do it. The very soul of prayer seemed 
embodied in this negro preacher's invocation ; nor did 
he forget Tob}r's "nurses," and every consolation and 
blessing was besought for them. And thus our Toby 
received a Christian burial. 



146 LIFE IN DIXIE. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

kverktt's desertion. 

During- the early spring- of that memorable year, 
1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur that 
Judg-e Hook and famih% including- his accomplished 
daug-hter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, from 
Chattanoog-a, had arrived at the depot, and were dom- 
iciled, pro tcDi.^ in cars which had been switched off 
the main track of the famous old Georg-ia Railroad. 
This novel mode of living, even in war times, by 
people in their monetar}^ condition and social standing-, 
naturall}^ attracted much attention, and broug-ht us to 
a full realization of approaching- dang-er. That this 
family, accustomed to all the luxuries of an eleg-ant 
home, should live in such an abode, with its attend- 
ant privations, was convincing- proof that the home 
they had abandoned had become intolerable because 
of the proximity of the enemy ; and it was also fear- 
fully sug-g-estive that that ubiquitous enemy was ex- 
tending- his dominion and bringing- the fiery, bloody 
conflict into the very heart of the "rebellion." 

A rebellion, b}^ way of parenthesis, which impartial 
historians will put on record as the grandest uprising 
of a long suffering people that was ever known in the 
annals of nations ; " a mutin}- " (as that chief of South- 
ern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose superb ego- 
tism impressed him with the idea that his influence 



DURING THE WAR. 147 

could chang-e the political trend of Great Britain 
towards the South, has seen proper to denominate it) 
in the camp of American councils brought about b}^ 
unceasing- abuse of the Southern States by political 
tricksters, whose only hope of survival lay in the 
hatred for the South thus engendered. 

The coming- of Judg-e Hook's family was hailed 
with pleasure by all g-ood and loyal citizens, and was 
a lig-ament connecting- more closely states suffering- in 
a common cause ; and we all called upon them and 
soon numbered them with our intimate friends. Mrs. 
Whitesides and Miss Hook were effective workers in 
all that benefited our soldiers or their families. 

Judg-e Hook was superintendent of the Government 
Iron Works, and literally broug-ht the foundr}^ as well 
as the operatives with him. Among- the latter was a 
man by the name of Kverett, who, with his family, 
consisting- of his wife and five children, occupied an 
old one-room house near a corner of our home lot. 
Althoug-h a heart}', hale, and rather g-ood-looking- 
man, Everett was very poor, and the first time I ever 
saw his wife she came to borrow "a little flour." As 
my mother never turned away from a borrower, Mrs. 
Everett's vessel was filled to overflowing-, and, besides, 
a pitcher of buttermilk and a plate of butter was g-iven 
to her, for which she was extremely g-rateful. 

An acquaintance thus beg-un continued during- the 
spring- and early summer months, and there was not 
a da}' during- that period that my mother did not 
find it convenient to do something- for this family. 
Mrs. Everett was more than ordinarily intellig-ent for 
a person in her position, and the blush which mantled 



148 LIFE IN DIXIE 

her pretty cheeks when she asked for anything be- 
trayed her sensibility ; and her children were pretty 
and sweet-mannered. I never saw Everett, only as I 
met him going- and coming from his work, and on those 
occasions he showed the greatest respect for me by 
taking off his hat as he approached me, and holding it 
in his hand until he had fully passed. He seemed to 
be a steady worker, and if he ever lost a day I never 
heard of it ; and Mrs. Everett was industrious, but 
much of the time unemployed for lack of material with 
which to work, and she often begged for something to 
do. She was anxious to work for our soldiers, and 
told me that all of her male relatives were in the Con- 
federate army. This circumstance endeared her very 
much to me ; and I made the support of his family 
vei}^ much easier to Everett than it would have been 
had he lived in a non-appreciative neighborhood. And 
when the village girls met at our house to practice for 
concerts for the benefit of our soldiers, which they did 
almost weekl}^, I never forgot that Mrs. Everett's 
brothers were in our army fighting valiantly, no doubt, 
for our cause, and I always asked her to come and 
bring her children to my room and listen with me to 
the sweet music and patriotic songs. 

As time sped, many opportunities for witnessing 
Mrs. Everett's devotion to her native land presented 
themselves ; and her service to its defenders, though 
humble and unobtrusive, was valuable. Her children, 
too, always spoke lovingly of our soldiers, and were 
never more happy than when doing something for 
them. At length the time came for another move of 
the foundr\% and quietly, as if by magic, it and its 



DURING THE WAR. 149 

appurtenants, under the judicious manag-ement of 
Judg-e Hook, g-ot on wheels and ran at the rate of 
thirty-five miles an hour until it reached Aug-usta — 
another haven of rest invested with heavenly beauty. 
After the departure of this important adjunct to this 
portion of the Confederacy, it was discovered that 
Everett and his family remained in Decatur. And a 
remarkable change came over them. Instead of the 
free-spoken, unsophisticated woman that she had 
always appeared to be, Mrs. Everett became reserved 
and taciturn, and seldom left the enclosure by which 
her humble dwelling was surrounded. And the chil- 
dren ceased to cheer us by their merry prattle and 
daily trip for a pitcher of buttermilk, which, under 
the changed and unexplained circumstances, my 
mother sent to them. 

On the never-to-be-forgotten 19th of July, 1864, 
when a portion of Sherman's army dashed into Deca- 
tur, it obtained a recruit. In an incredibly short time, 
Everett was arrayed in the uniform of a Yankee pri- 
vate, and was hustling around with the Yankees as if 
"to the manner born." 

On the 22d of July, when the Confederates ran 
the Yankees out of the little village they had so 
pompously occupied for a few days, Everett disap- 
peared, and so did his family from the little house on 
the corner. I supposed they had left Decatur, until 
I went out in town to see if I could hear anything 
from the victors — their losses, etc. — when by chance I 
discovered that they had taken shelter in the old post- 
office building on the northeast corner of the court- 
house square. 



150 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The morning- after the hurried evacuation of Deca- 
tur by the Federal troops, I arose, as was my custom, 
as day was dawning-, and, as soon as I thoug-ht I 
could disting-uish objects, I opened the front door and 
stepped out on the portico. As I stood looking upon 
the ruin and devastation of my war-stricken home, 
imag-ine my surprise and consternation when I saw a 
white handkerchief held by an invisible hand above a 
scuppernong grape arbor. My first impulse was to 
seek security within closed doors, but the thought oc- 
curred to me that some one might be in distress and 
needed aid. I therefore determined to investigate the 
case. In pursuance of this object I went down the 
steps, and advanced several yards in the direction of 
the waving signal, and asked : 

"Who is there?" 

"Come a little nearer, please," was the distinct 
answer. 

"I am near enough to hear you ; what can I do for 
you ?" I said, and did go a little nearer. 

"Miss Mary, don't be afraid of me ; I would die 
for you and such as you, but I cannot die for a lost 
cause " — and through an opening in the foliage of the 
vines, which were more on the ground than on the 
scaffolding, a head protruded — handsome brown eyes 
and dark whiskers included — Everett's head, in all 
the naturalness of innocence. 

I thought of his wife and of his children, and of 
his wife's brother in the Confederate army, and again 
asked with deliberation ^ 

" What can I do for you ?" 



DURING THE WAR. 151 

" Bless me or curse me," was the startling answer, 
and he continued : 

"Your kindness to my wife and children has 
nerved me to come to you and ask that you will aid me 
in- seeing- them, especially her. Will you do it ?" 

"Yes, thoug-h I despise you for the steps you have 
taken, I will g-rant your request. Don't be afraid that 
I will betray you." 

"Where shall I go ?" he asked, with a perceptible 
tremor in his voice. 

"While I am out here seeming to prop up these 
shrubs, make your way to the kitchen and enter its 
front door, and don't close it after you, but let it re- 
main wide open. But be still until I tell you to 
start." 

As if going for something, I walked hastily around 
the house and kitchen, and entering the latter brought 
out an old hoe, and seemed to use it quite industri- 
ously in banking up earth around fallen shrubbery. 
Watching an opportunity — for in those war times all 
things, animate and inanimate, seemed to have ears 
— I said : 

" When I go into the house, you must go into the 
kitchen, and be certain to let the doors remain open." 

I never knew how Everett made his journey, 
whether upright as a man, or upon all-fours like a 
beast. 

From sheer exhaustion my poor mother was sleep- 
ing still, and Toby's breathing and general appear- 
ance as he lay upon his pallet, plainly indicated the 
presence of deep seated disease. I looked around for 
Telitha, and not seeing her, went into the dining 



152 LIFE IN DitlE 

room where I found her sitting- by a window. By 
unmistakable signs she made me understand that she 
had witnessed the entire proceeding- connected with 
Everett throug-h the window blinds. 

Soon the loud tramping of horses' feet caused me 
to run ag-ain to the front door, and I beheld a number 
of our scouts approaching-. I went to meet them and 
shook hands with every one of them. No demonstra- 
tion, however enthusiastic, could have been an 
exaggeration of my joy on ag-ain seeing- our men, our 
dear Confederate soldiers, and yet I thoug-ht of Ever- 
ett and trembled. 

" Have you seen any Bill}^ Yanks this morning ?" 
was asked by several of them ; and I replied : 

" No, I have not seen any since our men ran them 
out of Decatur yesterda3\" 

" How did they treat 3^ou while they were here ?" 

" You see the devastation of the place," I replied. 
"Personally we escaped violence; but I would like 
you to g-o into the house and see the condition of 
affairs there." 

Said they : 

" It would not be new to us. We have seen the 
most wanton destruction of propert}^ and household 
goods wherever they have gone." 

" Do wait and let me have a pot of coffee made for 
you. The Yankees gave our negro girl quite a good 
deal of it, and not using it herself, she gave it to 
my mother, and I want you to enjoy some of it," I 
said. They replied. 

"Soldiers can't wait for luxuries." 

*' Good-bye and God bless you," was their parting 



DURING THE WAB. 153 

benediction. And then as if impelled by some strang-e 
inspiration thej galloped round to the well. I ran 
into the house and got several tumblers and fairl}^ flew 
out there with them, as there was no gourd at the 
well. The kitchen was in close proximity, and the 
door stood invitingly open. What if a bare suspicion 
should prompt these brave men to enter ? Alas ! 
All would be up with the poor miscreant who had 
thrown himself upon my mercy, and who was even 
then lurking there under my direction. But, thank 
the good Lord, they did not enter, and after again 
invoking God's blessings upon me, the}- galloped off 
in a southerly direction ; and never did retreating 
sounds give more relief. 

I went into the house. My mother, thoroughly 
exhausted, and perhaps discouraged, chose to remain 
in bed, and as she lay gazing intently upon the wall 
above her, I doubt if she saw it, so intense was her 
meditation. As Telitha by this time had a fire made 
in the dining room, I prepared a pot of good strong 
coffee, and after partaking of the exhilarating bever- 
age myself, and seeing that each of the household was 
supplied, I took the remainder with necessary adjuncts 
to Everett. Never will I forget his appearance as we 
stood face to face — he a miserable deserter from the 
cause I loved, and the recipient of favors I scorned 
myself for bestowing. I told him I would go at once 
for his wife, and that after seeing her he must make 
his way into the enemy's lines as soon as possible. 

A few minutes sufficed to carry me to Mrs. Ever- 
ett's retreat, already mentioned. I sat down on the 
front doorsteps and drew from my pocket a news- 
11 



154 LIFE IN DIXiE 

paper, which chanced to be there, and commenced 
reading aloud. At length I saw that mj presence 
had attracted the notice of the children, and I called 
them. One by one they came to me, and I shook 
hands with them and asked them about their mother. 
Hearing my voice and inquiries, she spoke to me most 
pleasantly. I asked her to come out and take a seat 
by me on the steps. She did so, blushingly and tim- 
idly. I wrote on the margin of the paper, " Send the 
children away," and handed it to her. She did so. 
Assured that they were not in hearing distance, I 
held the paper before me, and, as if reading, I told her 
the story of my early interview with her husband ; of 
his earnest desire to see her ; of my consent, on her 
account, to plan a meeting with her ; of his secretion 
in our kitchen ; and the necessity of the greatest cau- 
tion in our movements. I told her that after walking 
around a little, and exchanging experiences with the 
brave ladies of the village, she would see me, by 
keeping watch, going home, and then she could take 
a little basket in her hand, as if going for something, 
and come on to our house. She implicitly followed 
my directions. My mother received her as if nothing 
of an unpleasant nature had transpired ; and, although 
it is a ver}^ difficult problem, and never solved with- 
out the aid of necromancy, I undertook to deduct 
something from nothing, and so far succeeded that I 
had several small packages to lay in her basket as she 
started. Knowing that she knew the way to the 
kitchen, I gave her a wish that all would end well, 
and bade her good-bye, never, doubtless, to meet her 
again on earth. The tears flowed plenteously down 



DURING THE WAB. 155 

her cheeks, and her tongue refused to speak, but the 
pressure of her hand attested gratitude, and affection, 
and farewell. I got a glimpse of her as she went out 
of the alley gate ; but I never knew when he aban- 
doned his hiding place. I heard that about dusk a 
Federal army wagon, under protection of a company 
of troops, came and took her and her little children 
out of Decatur. 



156 LIFE IN DIXIE* 



CHAPTER XVII. 

A visit to Confederate lines — A narrow escape— My return — 
The fall of Atlanta. 

No news from "the front;" no tiding-s from the 
loved ones in gray ; no friendly spirit whispering- 
words of cheer or consolation. Shut up within a 
narrow space, and g-uarded by Federal bayonets ! not 
a ray of friendly lig-ht illuminated my environment. 

The constant roaring- of cannon and rattling- of 
musketry ; the thousand, yea, tens of thousands of 
shots blending- into one g-rand continuous whole, and 
reverberating- in avalanchan volume over the hills of 
Fulton, and the mountain heig-hts of old DeKalb — 
told in thunder tones of the fierce contest between 
Federal and Confederate forces being- wag-ed without 
intermission for the possession of Atlanta. 

The haughty, insolent boast of the enemy, now 
that Joe Johnston was removed from the command 
of the Army of the Tennessee, that they would make 
quick work of the rebellion, and of the complete sub- 
jug-ation of the South, had in no way a tendency to 
mitig-ate anxiety or to encourag-e hope. Thus sur- 
rounded, I soug-ht and obtained permission to read 
Federal newspapers. The United States mail broug-ht 
daily papers to the officers in command of the forces 
quartered in our yard ; and throug-h this medium I 
kept posted, from a Northern standpoint, concerning 



DUBING THE WAR. 157 

the situation of both armies. While there was little 
in these dispatches gratifying; to me, there was much 
that I thoug-ht would be valuable to my people if I 
could only convey it to them ; and I racked my brain 
day and nig-ht, devising ways and means by which 
to accomplish this feat. But the ways and means de- 
cided upon were, upon reflection, invariably aban- 
doned as being impracticable. 

In this dilemma, a most opportune circumstance 
offered an immediate solution of the difficult problem. 
In the midst of a deep study of the relative positions 
of the two armies, and of the hopes and fears anima- 
ting both, a tall, lank, honest-faced Yankee came to 
the door of the portico and asked "if Miss Gay was 

in." 

I responded that I was she, and he handed me a 
letter addressed to myself. I hastily tore it open and 
read the contents. It was written by a reverend gen- 
tleman whose wife was a distant relative of my 
mother, and told that she was very ill. "Indeed," 
wrote he, "I have but little hope of ever seeing her 
any better, and I beg you to come to see her, and 
spend several days." 

I showed the letter to my mother, who was sitting 
near by, and, like myself, engaged in studying the sit- 
uation. She strenuously objected to my going, and 
advanced many good reasons for my not doing so ; 
but my reasons for going counteracted them all m 
my estimation, and I determined to go. 

Taking Telitha with me, I carried the letter to the 
Provost Marshal, and asked him to read it and grant 
me the privilege of going. After reading the letter, 



158 LIFE IN DIXIE* 

he asked me how I obtained it, and received my state- 
ment. He then asked me if I could refer him to the 
party who broug-ht it to me. Leaving- the letter with 
him, I ran home and soon returned with the desired 
individual who had fortunately lingered in the yard 
in anticipation of usefulness. Convinced that the in- 
vitation was g-enuine, and for a humane purpose, this 
usually morose marshal g-ranted me "a permit" to 
visit those poor old sick people, for the husband was 
almost as feeble as his wife. I told the oblig-ing- mar- 
shal that there was another favor I should like to ask 
of him, if he would not think me too presumptuous. 
" Name it," he said. I replied : 

"Will you detail one or more of the soldiers to act 
as an escort for me ? I am afraid to g-o with onl}- 
this g-irl." 

To this he also assented, and said it was a wise 
precaution. He asked when I wished to come home. 

"Day after to-morrow afternoon," I told him, and 
received assurance that an escort would be in waiting- 
for me at that time. 

It now became necessary to make some important 
preparations for the trip. A g-reat deal was involved, 
and if my plans were successful, important events 
mig-ht accrue. A nice white petticoat was called into 
requisition, and, when I g-ot done with it, it was lit- 
erally lined with Northern newspapers. "The Cin- 
cinnati Enquirer," and "The New York Daily 
Times;" "The Cincinnati Commercial Gazette," and 
"The Philadelphia Evening- Ledg-er," under the 
manipulation of my fingers, took their places on the 
inner sides and rear of the skirt, and served as a very 



DURING THE WAB. 159 

stylish " bustle," an article much in vog-ue in those 
days. This preparatory work having" been accomp- 
lished, it required but a few moments to complete my 
toilet, and, under the auspices of a clear conscience 
and a mother's blessing", doubtless, I started on a per- 
ilous trip. The ever-faithful Telitha was by my side, 
and the military escort a few feet in advance. 

After a walk of a mile and a half, I reached my 
destination for that day. I found the old lady in 
question much better than I had expected. Nervous 
and sick himself, her husband had g-reatly exag-- 
g-erated her afflictions. By deg-rees, and under pro- 
test, I communicated to these ag-ed people my inten- 
tion of carrying- information to Hood's headquarters, 
that mig-ht be of use to our army. I knew that these 
g-ood old people would not betray me, even thoug-h 
they mig-ht not approve my course, and I confided to 
them m}' every plan. Both were troubled about the 
possible result if I should be detected ; but my plans 
were laid, and nothing- could deter me from pursuing- 
them. 

The rising- sun of another day saw Telitha and me 
starting- on our way to run the gauntlet, so to speak, 
of Federal bayonets. These g-ood old people had 
g-iven me much valuable information reg-arding- the 
way to Atlanta — information which enabled me to 
g-et there without conflict with either Confederate or 
Federal pickets. Knowing- the topog-raphy of the 
country, I took a circuitous route to an old mill ; 
Cobb's, I believe, and from there I sought the Mc- 
Donough road. I didn't venture to keep that high- 
way to the city, but I kept within sight of it, and 



160 LIFE IN DIXIE 

under cover of breast-works and other obstructions, 
managed to evade videttes and pickets of both armies. 
After walking- fourteen or fifteen miles, I entered 
Atlanta at the beautiful home of Mrs. L. P. Grant, 
at the southern boundary of the city. That estimable 
lady never lost an opportunity of doing- g-ood. The 
lessons of humanity and Christian g-race impressed 
upon her youthful mind, and intensified by the life- 
long- example of her devoted mother, Mrs. Ammi Wil- 
liams, of Decatur, had called into action all that is 
ennobling- in woman. On this occasion, as upon every 
other offering- an opportunity, she remembered to do 
g-ood. She ordered an appetizing- lunch, including- a 
cup of sure enoug-h coffee, which refreshed and 
strengthened me after m}^ long- walk. Her butler hav- 
ing- become a familiar personag-e on the streets of 
Atlanta, she sent him as a g-uide to important places. 
We entered the city unchalleng-ed, and moved about 
at will. The force of habit, probably, led me to Mrs. 
McArthur's and to Mrs. Craig-'s on Pryor street ; and, 
by the way, these friends still own the same property, 
and occupy almost the same homes. The head of 
neither of these families was willing- to accompany me 
to Confederate headquarters, and without a g-uide I 
started to hunt them for myself. What had seemed 
an easy task now seemed insurmountable. I knew 
not in what direction to g-o, and the few whom I 
asked seemed as ig-norant as myself. Starting- from 
Mrs. Craig-'s, I went towards the depot. I had not 
proceeded very far before I met Major John Y. 
Rankin. I could scarcely restrain tears of joy. He 
was a member of the very same command to which 



DURING THE WAR. 161 

my brother belong-ed. From Major Rankin I learned 
that my brother, utterly prostrated, had been sent to 
a hospital, either in Aug-usta or Madison. He told 
me many other thing's of interest, which I cannot men- 
tion now, unless I was compiling" a history instead of 
a series of personal reminiscences. Preferring not to 
stand upon the street, I asked Major Rankin to return 
with me to Mrs. Craig-'s, which he did, and spent an 
hour in pleasant conversation. Mrs. Craig" was a 
delig^htful conversationalist, and while she was enter- 
taining- the major with that fine art, I retired to a pri- 
vate apartment, and with the aid of a pair of scissors 
ripped off the papers from my underskirt and smoothed 
and folded them nicely, and after re-arrang-ing- my 
toilet, took them into the parlor as a trophy of skill 
in outwitting the Yankee. Telitha, too, had a tro- 
phy to which she had clung" ever since we left home 
with the tenacity of an eel, and which doubtless she 
supposed to be an offering- to " Marse Tom," and was 
evidently anxious that he should receive it. Having" 
dismissed Mrs. Grant's butler as no long"er necessary 
to my convenience, Major Rankin, mj^self and 
Telitha went direct to the headquarters of his com- 
mand. The papers seemed to be most acceptable, but 
I noticed that the gleaning"s from conversation seemed 
far more so. The hopefulness and enthusiasm of our 
soldiers were inspiring-. But alas ! how little the}^ 
knew of the situation, and how determined not to be 
enlig"htened. Even then they believed that they 
would hold Atlanta against Herculean odds, and 
scorned the idea of its surrender. At length the open- 
ing" of Telitha's packag"e devolved on me. Shirts, 



162 LIF^ IN DIXfE 

socks and soap, towels, gloves, etc., formed a compact 
bundle that mj mother had sent to our soldiers. 
Many cheery words were said, and g-ood-byes uttered, 
and I left them to meet once more under very different 
circumstances. 

I now turned m}^ thoughts to our negroes, who 
were hired in different parts of the city. Rachel, the 
mother of King, hired herself and rented a room from 
Mr. John Silvey, who lived upon the same lot on 
Marietta street upon which he has since erected his 
present elegant residence. In order that I might have 
an interview with Rachel without disturbing Mr. Sil- 
vey's family, I went to the side gate and called her. 
She answered and came immediately. I asked her if 
she realized the great danger to which she was con- 
tinually exposed. Kven then "shot and shell" were 
falling in every direction, and the roaring of cannon 
was an unceasing sound. She replied that she knew 
the danger, and thought I was doing wrong to be in 
Atlanta when I had a home to be at. I insisted that 
she had the same home, and a good vacant house was 
ready to receive her. But she was impervious to 
every argument, and preferred to await the coming of 
Sherman in her present quarters. Seeing that I had 
no influence over her, I bade her good-bye and left. 
Telitha and I had not gone farther than the First 
Presbyterian church (not a square away) from the 
gate upon which I had leaned during this interview 
with Rachel, before a bombshell fell by that gate and 
burst into a thousand fragments, literally tearing the 
gate into pieces. Had I remained there one minute 
longer, my mortal being would have been torn to 



DURING THE WAR. 168 

atoms. After this fearfully impressive adventure, 
unfortified by any "permit" I struck a bee line to 
Mrs. Grant's, having- promised her that I would g-o 
back that way and stop awhile. An old negro man 
belong-ing- to Mrs. Williams, who had "come out" on 
a previous occasion, was there, and wanted to return 
under my protection to his home within the enemy's 
lines. Very earnest assurances from Mrs. Grant to 
that effect convinced me that I had nothing- to fear 
from betrayal by him, and I consented that he should 
be a member of my company homeward bound. Two 
large packages were ready for the old man to take 
charge of, about which Mrs. Grant gave him direc- 
tions, sotlo voce. Putting one of them on the end of a 
walking cane he threw it over his right shoulder, and 
with his left hand picked up the other bundle. 
Telitha and I were unencumbered. With a good deal 
of trepidation I took the advance position in the line 
of march, and walked briskly. We had not proceeded 
very far before we encountered our pickets. No argu- 
ment was weighty enough to secure for me the privi- 
lege of passing the lines without an official permit. 
Baffled in this eff^ort, I approved the action of the 
pickets, and we turned and retraced our steps in the 
direction of Atlanta, until entirely out of sight of 
them, and then we turned southward and then east- 
ward, verging a little northward. Constant vigilance 
enabled me to evade the Yankee pickets, and constant 
walking brought me safely to the home of my aged 
and afflicted friends, from which I had started early 
in the morning of that day. Not being tired, I could 
have gone home ; but the policy of carrying out the 



164 LIFE IN DIXIE 

orig-inal programme is too apparent to need explana- 
tion. These friends were conservative in every act 
and word, and, it may be, leaned a little out of the 
perpendicular towards that " flaunting- lie," the United 
States flag- ; therefore they were favorites among- the 
so-called defenders of the Union, and were kept sup- 
plied with many palatable articles of food that were 
entirely out of the reach of rebels who were avowed 
and "dyed in the wool." 

A few minutes sufficed to furnish us with a fine pot 
of soup (and good bread was not lacking-), of which 
we ate heartily. The old neg-ro man was too anx- 
ious to g-et home to be willing- to spend the nig-ht so 
near, just for the privileg-e of walking- into Decatur 
under Yankee escort, and said he was " g-oing- home," 
and left me. 

The next day my escort was promptly on hand, 
and in due time I was in Decatur, none the worse for 
having- put into practice a favorite aphorism of the 
Yankees, that "all thing's are fair in war." 

The old man had preceded me, and faithful to the 
behest of Mrs. Grant, had turned over a valuable 
packag-e to my mother. 

Not many morning-s subsequent to the adventure 
just related, I discovered upon opening- the door that 
the Yankee tents seemed to be vacant. Not a blue- 
coat was to be seen. What could it mean ? Had they 
g-iven up the contest and ig-nominiously fled ? As if 
confirmatory of the g-ratifying- sug-g-estion, the boom- 
ing- of cannon in the direction of Atlanta was evidently 
decreasing-. Then ag-ain I thought perhaps the wagon 
train had been sent out to forage upon the country, 



BUBING THE WAB. 165 

and as it would now have to go forty-five and fifty miles 
to g-et anything-, it required an immense military es- 
cort to protect it from the dashing-, sang-uinary attacks 
of the "rebels." The latter thoug-ht was soon dis- 
missed and the former embraced, and how consoling- 
it was to me. Before the sun had attained its merid- 
ian heig-ht, a number of our scouts appeared on the 
abandoned g-rounds; and what joy their presence g-ave 
us ! But they left us as suddenly as they came, and 
on reflection we could not think of a sing-le encourag-- 
ing- word uttered by them during- their stay. Suspense 
became intolerable. With occasional lulls, the roar- 
ing- of cannon was a continuous blending* of ominous 
sound. 

In the midst of this awful suspense, an apparition, 
g-lorious and brig-ht, appeared in our presence. It was 
my brother. He had left Madison a few days before, 
where he had been allowed to spend a part of his f ur- 
loug-h, instead of remaining at the Aug-usta hospital, 
and where he received the tender ministrations of his 
estimable cousin, Mrs. Tom Hillsman, and her pretty 
young- daug-hters, and the loving- care of his sister 
Missouri, who was also at this time an inmate of her 
cousin's household. How I wished he could have re- 
mained there until restored to health. One less pa- 
triotic and conscientious would have done so. His 
mother's joy at meeting- her beloved son, and under 
such circumstances, was pathetic indeed, and I shall 
never for g-et the effort she made to repress the tears 
and steady the voice as she soug-ht to nerve him for 
the arduous and perilous duties before him. Much of 
his conversation, thoug-h hurried, was reg-arding- his 



166 LIFE JN Di:S^E 

Mary, in Texas, and the dear little boy dropped down 
from heaven, whom he had never seen. The shades 
of nig-ht came on, and darker g^rew until complete 
blackness enveloped the face of the earth, and still the 
low subdued tones of conversation between mother, 
son and daug-hter, ming-led with unabated interest. 
Hark ! Hark ! An e;xplosion ! An earthquake ? The an- 
g-ry bellowing- sound rises in deafening- g-randeur, and 
reverberates along- the far-off valleys and distant hill- 
tops. What is it ? This mig-hty thunder that never 
ceases ? The earth is ablaze — what can it be ? This 
illumination that reveals minutest objects ? With 
blanched face and tearful e^^e, the soldier said : 

"Atlanta has surrendered to the enemy. The 
mig-hty reports are occasioned by the blowing- up of 
the mag-azines and arsenals." 

Dumbfounded we stood, trying- to realize the crush- 
ing- fact. Woman's heart could bear no more in 
silence, and a wail over departed hopes ming-led with 
the ang-ry sounds without. 

Impelled by a stern resolve, and a spirit like to 
that of martyred saints, our brother said : 

'.'This is no place for me. I must g"o." 

And then he put an arm around each of us, and 
kissed us with a fervor of love that knew no bounds, 
and was quenching- itself in unfathomable hopeless 
tenderness. The quiet fortitude and patriotism of his 
mother g-ave way in that dread hour, and she cried 
aloud in ag-onizing- apprehension of never ag-ain clasp- 
ing- to her bosom her g-reatest earthly joy. No pen 
can describe the scene of that last parting- between 



DURING THE WAR. 167 

mother and son, and in sheer impotency I drop the 
curtain. 

As he walked awaj from his sobbing- mother, 
throug-h the war-illuminated village, I never beheld 
mortal man so handsome, so heroically g-rand. His 
great tender heart, which I had seen heave and sway 
under less trying circumstances, seemed to have ossi- 
fied, and not an emotion was apparent. 



168 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE TEN days' armistice. 

Going out with the Confederate clothes — Scenes at Atlanta 
and at Lovejoy's Station — The visit to Granbury's Brigade — 
The last interview with Thomie. 

After every morsel of food had been taken from 
the people, and every vestig-e of nutrition extracted 
from the earth, the following- order, in substance, was 
proclaimed throug-hout the land held by the rig-ht of 
conquest : 

" All who cannot support themselves without ap- 
plying- to the United States Commissary for assist- 
ance, must g-o outside of our lines, either north or 
south, within the period of time mentioned in this 
order, etc., etc." 

And b}^ this order, and by others even more oppres- 
sive and diabolical, the Nero of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, alias William Tecumseh Sherman, was put upon 
record as the born leader of the most ruthless, Godless 
band of men ever org-anized in the name of patriotism 
— a band which, but for a few noble spirits who, by 
the power of mind over matter, exerted a restraining- 
influence, would not have left a Southerner to tell the 
tale of fiendishness on its route to the sea. 

And now, like Bill Nye, after one of his sententious 
and doubtless truthful introductions to a Western 



DUBING THE WAB. 169 

sketch, I feel easier in my mind, and will proceed with 
my reminiscences of that unholy period of this coun- 
try, and tell the truth about it, without favor or 
prejudice, if it kills me. After this pronunciamento 
had been issued, all was bustle and rapid movement 
in every household within the boundaries of usurpa- 
tion. Under the strong- arm of military power, delay 
was not permitted. Homes were to be abandoned, 
and household g-oods and household g"ods to be left 
for the enemy, or destroyed ; and liberty under our 
own vine and fig tree was to be a thing- of the past, 
and dependence upon strang-ers a thing- of the future. 
In preparation for this enforced chang-e, much that 
should have been done was left undone, but there was 
no time to correct mistakes — the armistice was only 
for ten days. 

What were we to do, my mother and myself, was a 
question which presented itself with startling- serious- 
ness, and had to be answered without delay. Our 
farm in Gordon county had already been devastated 
by the invading- army, and every improvement de- 
stroyed, and if we should lose our home in Decatur we 
would be poor indeed. But what were we to do ? If 
we left our home, we knew it would share the fate of 
all other " abandoned" property, and furnish material 
for a bonfire for Nero to fiddle by ; and if we remained, 
by g-race of better men than he, what assurance had 
we that by any means within our grasp we could ob- 
tain even a scanty subsistence, or be protected from 
personal abuse and insult by an alien army whose gen- 
tlemen were vastly in the minority. 



12 



170 LIFE IN DlXli 

We learned that our neig'libors and friends, Mrs. 
Ammi Williams and her estimable son, Mr. Frederick 
Williams, (an invalid from paralysis) — whose influence 
over General Schofield prevented my banishment from 
Decatur the very first nig-ht of its occupancy by the 
Federal army — and the venerable Mr. and Mrs. Buch- 
anan (the latter a Bostonian and educated in Emer- 
son's celebrated school for young- ladies), and other 
families as true to the South as the needle to the pole, 
were g"oing" to remain and take their chances within 
the enemy's lines, and we determined to do so too. 

The officers in command of the post, especially the 
provost marshal, interrog^ated us very closely reg^ard- 
ing- our plans and expectations during- the occupancy 
of the place by Federal forces. Having- satisfied them 
that our only remaining" servant would do washing- 
and ironing- at reasonable prices, and that we would 
do darning- and repairing-, we were g-iven a written 
permit to remain within the lines. 

I, however, had a work to do, a feat to perform, 
which for audacity and courag-e, has seldom been sur- 
passed, which would not admit of my sta3ang- at home 
until I had made a little trip to Dixie. 

Knowing- the value of his influence, I ag-ain went 
to Mr. Frederick Williams, and confiding- my plans to 
him, asked his assistance in g-etting- permission to g-o 
out and return during- the armistice. I never knew 
what argument he employed for the accomplishment 
of this object. I only know by inference. But I 
received a letter from General Schofield, adjutant- 
g-eneral, of which the subjoined is an exact transcript: 



DURING THE WAB. 171 

"Dkcatuk, Ga., Sept. 1, 18r34. 

"Miss Gay — It was hard for me to reconcile my 
conscience to giving the enclosed recommendation to 
one whose sentiments I cannot approve, but if I have 
committed an error it has been on the side of mercy, 
and I hope I'll be forgiven. Hereafter I hope you will 
not think of Yankees as all being bad, and beyond the 
pale of redemption. 

"To-morrow I leave for my own home in the 
'frozen North,' and when I return it will be to fight 
for my country, and against your friends, so that I 
suppose I shall not have the pleasure of again meet- 
ing y.ou. Very respectfully, 

J. W. Campbell." 

And that Major Campbell's gallant act may be 
fully appreciated, I will add the letter which secured 
for me the great favor which I had the temerity to 
ask. 

"Headquarters, Army of Ohio, 

Decatur, Ga., Sept. 14, 1864. 
"My Dear Colonel — I have the honor to intro- 
duce Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of this village, and I rec- 
ommend her case to your favorable consideration. I 
do not know exactly what orders are now in force, but 
if you think 3'ou can grant her desires without detri- 
ment to the public service, I am confident the indul- 
gence will not be abused. 

Very respectfull}- your obedient servant, 

J. W. Campbell. 
"To Colonel J. C. Parkhurst, Pro. Mar. Gen., Army 
of the Cumberland." 



172 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Thus recommended by one hig-h in army ranks, 
Colonel Parkhurst granted me the privilege of going- 
to see mj' young sister, then in Augusta, and carrying* 
anything I might have saved from the ravages of the 
war, "unmolested." Fortified by these letters I went 
to the Provost Marshal in Decatur and told him I 
would be ready to g"0 to Atlanta to-morrow morning 
at 8 o'clock, and I wanted to carry some old bed- 
clothing- and other things to my sister, and would be 
g-rateful for an ambulance, or an army wagon all to 
myself, and an Irish driver. He promised that both 
should be at my service at the time indicated — not, 
however, without 'the sarcastic remark that "if the 
Yankees had been as bad as I had said they were, 
they would not have left anything for me to carry." 

I ran to m}^ mother and imparted to her the glad 
tidings of success, and in a whispered conversation 
we soon had definite plans arrang-ed for the consum- 
mation of the perilous duty before me. I went to the 
Federal camp and asked for some crocus sacks such 
as are used in the transportation of grain, and quite 
a number were given to me. I shook them thoroughly 
inside and out, and put them by. A ball of twine and 
some large needles had found their way into the 
house. The needles were threaded and placed in con- 
venient proximity to the sacks. Telitha watched 
every movement with interest and intuitively divined 
its import. The wardrobe was empty and my very 
first touch moved it at least one inch in the desired 
direction, and a helping hand from her soon placed it 
in favorable position. This much being accomplished, 
I took a seat by my mother on the front door-steps and 



JJURING THE WAE. 173 

eng-ag"ed in a pleasant conversation with a group of 
^^oung- Federal soldiers, who seemed much attached 
to us, and with whom I conversed with unreserved 
candor, and often expressed reg-ret that thej were in 
hostile array towards a people who had been g-oaded 
to desperation by infring^ement upon constitutional 
rig*hts by those who had pronounced the only lig-ament 
that bound the two sections of the country together, 
" a leag"ue with hell, and a covenant with the devil." 
This I proved to them by documents published at the 
North, and by many other thing-s of which they were 
ig-norant. 

While thuseng-ag-ed. Captain Woodbury approached 
and said : "I learn that 3-ou are g"oing- out into Dixie, 
Miss Gay." 

"Yes, for a few days," I replied. 

"I am prepared to furnish a more pleasant con- 
veyance to Atlanta than the one you have secured," 
said he, and continued, "I have a handsome new 
bug-g-y and a fine trotter, and it will take only a few 
minutes to reach there. Will you accept a seat with 
me?" 

If all the blood within me had overflowed its proper 
channels, and rushed to the surface, I could not have 
flushed more. I felt it in the commotion of mv hair, 
and in the nervous twitching- of m}^ feet. The indig-- 
nation and contempt that I felt for the man ! That 
one who was aiding* and abetting" in the devastation 
of my country and the spoliation of my home, should 
ask me to take a seat with him in a bug-g"}' which he 
doubtless had taken, without leave or license, from 
my countrjnnen, was presumptuous indeed, and de- 



174 LIFE IN DIXIE 

served a severe rebuke. But " prudence being- the bet- 
ter j)art of valor," I repressed all that would have 
been offensive in word and act, and replied with 
suavit}', "Thank you. Captain Woodbury, for the 
honor you would have conferred upon me, but I can- 
not accept it." Receiving- no reply, I added : 

" Let me in candor make a statement to you, and I 
think you will approve the motive that prompts my 
decision. I have not soug-ht to conceal the fact that 
my only brother is in the Confederate army ; he is 
there from motives purelj^ patriotic, and not as a mer- 
cenary hireling-. He is fig-hting- for the rig-hts g-uar- 
anteed by the Constitution of the United States, a 
constitution so sacred that our people have never vio- 
lated it in any particular, and of which we have 
shown our hig-hest appreciation by adopting- it re?'- 
haiim^ as the guiding- star of the Southern Confed- 
eracy. You are in an army claiming* to be fig-hting- 
for the Union, and 3'et the g-overnment that sent j^ou 
out on this g-lorious mission ig-nores every principle of 
fraternal relation between the North and the South, 
and would subvert every fundamental principle of 
self-g-overnment and establish upon the wreck a cen- 
tralized despotism. Could I, while you and I are so 
antagonistic, accept your offer and retain j^our g-ood 
opinion ? I think not, and I prefer to g-o in the con- 
veyance alread}' stipulated." 

Silence, without the slightest manifestation of an- 
ger, assured me that my argument against taking a 
buggy drive with him to Atlanta had not been lost 
on Captain Woodbury, of Ohio, a member of Gar- 
rard's Cavalry. 



nUBINO THE WAR. 175 

After this episode we bade our callers " g"ood-even- 
ing-," went into the house and busied ourselves with 
the important work before us — a work which prob- 
ably would not attract attention because of the dark- 
ness that would surround the scene of its execution. 
The table and chair had been placed, as once before, 
by the wardrobe already mentioned, and a little 
respite was employed in viewing- the situation. The 
door connecting- our room and this dining--room was 
g-enerally kept shut. At leng-th nig-ht came on with 
its friendly, helpful darkness. The shutters of the 
windows had been closed for weeks, and secured by 
nails, and the house had been too often searched and 
plundered to be suspected of containing- valuables. 
Therefore, we felt that if no unusual sound attracted 
notice we would accomplish our object unsuspected. 
But I was anxious and nervous in view of what was 
before me, and wanted the perilous work over with. 
So when the darkness of nig-ht fully enshrouded the 
earth, with no other lig-ht than that which found its 
way from the camp-fires of the enemy through the 
latticed shutters, I stepped into the chair and thence 
upon the table, and Telitha followed and drew the 
chair up after her. Then with her strong- duskj^ 
hands she seized the wardrobe as if it had been a to}^ 
in her hands. I steadied the chair by the wardrobe 
and stepped into it, and another step landed me on 
top of the wardrobe. My fing-ers penetrated the crev- 
ice between the slats which I wanted to pull off, and 
to a slight effort they yielded. Lest the noise oc- 
casioned by dropping- them mig-ht attract notice, I 
stooped and laid each piece down as I drew it off the 



176 LIFE IN DIXIE 

joist. When the aperture thus made was sufficient, I 
beg-an to draw from their hiding- place the precious 
Confederate overcoats and other winter apparel con- 
fided to m}^ keeping- (as already related), bj soldiers 
of General Joseph K. Johnston's army, when they 
were at Dalton. One by one each piece was taken 
out and dropped down upon the floor. But by a 
lamentable oversig-ht we afterwards found that one 
article had been left — a woolen scarf for the neck, 
knitted for my brother by his loving- young- wife in 
Texas. 

Carefully I descended, and, with the aid of the 
girl, placed the chair, the table, and the dear old 
wardrobe (which deserves to be immortalized in song- 
and story), in less suspicious positions, and then pro- 
ceeded to pack in the sacks, already mentioned, the 
precious articles. The thoug-ht occurred to me thai; 
my mother would like to have a hand in this labor of 
love, and I opened the door between us. I shall ncA^er 
forg-et her appearance as she stood as if riveted to 
the spot, near a window, watching- the moving- fig-ures 
without. I approached her and in a cheerful whisper 
told her that I was now putting- the thing-s in the 
sacks, and I knew she would like to have an interest 
in the job. She tried to respond, but she was too 
nervous to do so. Slowly but surely she was yielding- 
to the pressure upon nerve and brain. As each sack 
was filled, a threaded needle securely closed the 
mouth. In a short while a number of these sacks 
stood in a g-roup, as erect as if on parade, and I verily 
believe that if the host of profane, godless braggarts 
(with but few exceptions) who surrounded the house 



DURING THE WAR. 177 

could have seen them at that time and known their 
contents, they would have evacuated Decatur in mor- 
tal fear of the g-hosts of " Johnnie Rebs." 

This important work having- been accomplished 
without discovery or even a shadow of suspicion, I 
felt vastly relieved, and thanked the Lord with all my 
heart for the health, streng-th, and ing-enuity which 
had enabled me to consummate it. My mother and I 
lay down upon the same bed, and were soon blessed 
with the invig-orating- influence of "tired nature's 
sweet restorer." 

The song- of the lark had ceased to be heard in this 
war-stricken locality ; chanticleer had long- since fur- 
nished a savory meal for camp foUowefs, and the 
time-pieces had either been spoiled or stolen ; but 
there was a silent, unerring- chronometer within that 
never deviated, and needed no alarm attachment to 
arouse me from slumber, and the dawn found me up 
and preparing- for the duties and perhaps the dang-ers 
of the day. 

Telitha had become quite an attraction to a bevy 
of men who occupied soldiers' quarters, and wore sol- 
diers' uniforms, and drew pay for doing- so, from 
Uncle Sam's coffers ; and as she had been trained to 
ideas of virtue and morality she often came in frown- 
ing- and much ruffled in temper by their deportment 
towards her. Being almost entirely deaf and dumb, 
her limited vocabulary was inadequate to supply epi- 
thets expressive of the rig-hteous indig-nation and con- 
tempt which she evidently felt— she could only say, 
" Devil Yank, devil,'' and these words she used with 
telling- effect both to the amusement and chagrin of 



178 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the Yankees. This state of affairs convinced me that 
for her protection she would have to be kept within 
doors, and I therefore assumed the task of drawing- 
the water, and a few other jobs indispensable even 
in life's rudest state. On this occasion, when I went 
to the well for a bucket of water, before preparing- 
our frug-al breakfast, I was asked by early marauders 
why I did not let " that young- colored lady draw the 
water." I candidly answered them, and 'told them I 
was g-oing- to ask the officers of the encampment to 
protect her while I was g-one, and I also would ask 
them to report any misdemeanor toward her, that they 
mig-ht witness, at headquarters. 

After a g-ood nig-ht's rest my mother's nerves 
seemed all rig-ht ag-ain, and by 7 o'clock we had fin- 
ished our breakfast, which consisted of bread and but- 
ter and coffee — the latter luxurious beverag-e being- 
furnished by one whose heart was in touch with hu- 
manit3\ That the aperture in the ceiling- of the 
dining- room mig-ht not be discovered until I g-ot the 
contraband g-oods out of the house, I had broug-ht the 
sacks containing- them into the adjoining- room, and it 
was therefore the work of a very few minutes to convey 
them to the wag-on, when that vehicle, drawn by a 
span of fine horses, under the g-uidance of the Irish 
driver, drove up to the frontdoor. "Put those sacks 
into the wagon," I said, pointing- to them. When the 
last one of them was stored away safely in that mov- 
ing- repository, one of those feeling-s of relief and se- 
curity came over me that had more than once g-iven 
me courag-e to brave successfully impending- dang-er — 
and I donned m}^ hat, and bade m}^ mother and the 



DUBINQ THE WAB. 179 

faithful g-irl an almost cheerful "Good-bye," and 
took my seat by the driver, en 7'oute for Dixie. Would 
I g-et there ? Ah ! that was the question that had 
blanched my mother's cheek when I said "Good-bye." 
But hope, etc., " eternal in the human breast, " whis- 
pered "yes," and thus encourag-ed, I spoke g-rateful 
words to the Irish driver, and asked him many questions 
about the land of the shamrock and sunny blue skies. 
He was evidentl}^ flattered by my favorable knowledg-e 
of the Emerald Isle, and would have done anything- 
within his power for me. God bless the Irish for- 



ever 



I asked him to drive under my direction to the res- 
idence of my estimable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Posey 
Maddox, the parents of the accomplished and erudite 
Charles K. Maddox, of Atlanta. To my g^reat joy I 
saw wag-ons in the yard, already laden with their 
household g-oods, to be carried to the depot and turned 
over to the Federal authorities, who assumed the 
transportation of them to Jonesboro and the safe de- 
livery of them to the Confederate authorities, who in 
turn assumed the transportation and delivery of them 
to the nearest Confederate station. Mr. Maddox had 
secured the use of an entire freig-ht car, and g"ladly 
consented to take me and m}^ bag-g^ag-e in with theirs. 
Mrs. Maddox was particularly g-lad to have me g-o with 
them, and to her I confided the character of ni}^ bag-- 
gag-e, and received in return many words of sympathy 
and approbation. Those who have studied mythical 
lore, and dwelt in imagination upon the attributes of 
mythical characters, especiall}^ those of an evil nature, 
can perhaps form some idea of the confusion and disquiet 



180 LIFE IN DIXIE 

of an entire city yielding- its possession to an alien 
army, which now, that success had been achieved by 
brute force, was bent upon the utter impoverishment 
of the people, and their extreme humiliation. Curses 
and imprecations too vile to repeat, and boisterous 
laug-hter, and vulg-ar jests resounded through the 
streets of Atlanta. Federal wag-ons followed in the 
tracks of Confederate wag"ons, and after a few lig-ht 
articles were placed in the latter for Southern desti- 
nation, the former unblushing-ly moved up to receive 
pianos and other expensive furniture which found its 
way into every section of the North. And this hig-h- 
way robbery was permitted by William Tecumseh 
Sherman, the Grand Mog-ul of the Army of the Repub- 
lic. Truly had the city of Atlanta been turned into a 
veritable pandemonium. 

At leng-th our time came to move in the worse than 
death-like processions g'oing- southward, and in a 
short while we were at Jonesboro, our destination, so 
far as Federal aid extended. As soon as I stepped 
from the car I wended my way to the Confederate 
officer of the day, whom I recog^nized by his reg-alia, 
and told him of my success in concealing- and bring-ing- 
out of Federal lines the winter clothing- of our soldiers. 
He listened with polite attention and said it was a 
wonderfully interesting- story, but altog-ether improb- 
able. 

" Go with me and I will prove to you the truthful- 
ness of it," I eag-erly said. 

As it was a bleak equinoctial day, and drizzling- 
rain, Mr. and Mrs. Maddox had not yet left their car 
(b}^ way of parenthesis, I would sa}^ that the favors 



DURING THE WAR. 181 

shown to these excellent people was in consideration 
of Mr. Maddox being- a very prudent minister of the 
gospel), and, when we reached it, I asked Mr. Maddox 
to roll one of my sacks to the door. He did so, and I 
then asked the officer to examine its contents. A blade 
of a pen-knife severed the twine with which the edges 
of the mouth had been sewed together, and the loved 
familiar gray and brass buttons, and other articles, 
verified the truth of my statement. He looked amazed, 
and exhausted his vocabulary of flattering encomiums 
upon me, and, what was more desirable and to the 
point, he asked what he could do in the matter, and 
assured me that there was nothing within the range 
of his jurisdiction that he would not do. I told him 
that the object of my coming to him was to ask that 
he send me and my precious charge to General Gran- 
bury's headquarters, as, among other overcoats, I had 
one of his in charge, as well as many other things 
belonging to his staff officers. He told me the finest 
span of Confederate horses and the best ambulance on 
the ground should be at my service as soon as possible. 
During the interim, I opened wide my eyes and 
took in the situation in all its horrible details. The 
entire Southern population of Atlanta, with but an 
occasional exception, and that of many miles in its 
vicinit}^, were dumped out upon the cold ground 
without shelter and without any of the comforts of 
home, and an autumnal mist or drizzle slowly but surely 
saturating every article of clothing upon them; and 
pulmonary diseases in all stages admonishing them of 
the danger of such exposure. Aged grandmothers 
tottering upon the verge of the grave, and tender 



182 LIFE IN DIXIE 

maidens in the first bloom of 3^oung- womanhood, and 
little babes not three days old in the arms of sick 
mothers, driven from their homes, were all out upon 
the cold charity of the world. 

Apropos, I will relate an incident that came under ** 
my observation during- my brief stay at this station : 
When one of the long- trains from Atlanta rolled in 
with its living- freig-ht and stopped at the terminus, a .. 
queenly g"irl, tall and lithe in fig-ure and willowy in 
motion, emerged from one of the cars, and stood, the 
embodiment of feminine grace, for a moment upon the 
platform. In less time than it takes to chronicle the 
impression, her Grecian beaut}^ classic expression and 
nobility of manner, had daguerreotyped themselves 
upon the tablets of my memory never to be effaced by 
mortal alchemy. The pretty plain debeige dress, 
trimmed with Confederate buttons and corresponding 
ribbon, all conspired to make her appear, even to a 
casual observer, just what she was — a typical Southern 
girl who gloried in that honor. She stood only a 
moment, and then, as if moved by some divine inspir- 
ation, she stepped from the car, and falling upon 
her knees, bent forward and kissed the ground. 
This silent demonstration of affection for the land of 
Dixie touched a vibrating chord, and a score or more of 
beautiful girlish voices blended in sweetest harmony 
while they told in song their love for Dixie. I listened 
spellbound, and was not the onl}' one thus enchanted. 
A United States officer listened and was touched to 
tears. Approaching me, he asked if I would do him 
the favor to tell him the name of the young lady who 
kissed the ground. 



DURING THE WAR. 183 

"I do not think she would approve of my telling- 
you her name, and I decline to do so," I said in reply. 
Not in the least daunted by this rebuff he responded : 
"I shall learn it ; and if she has not already become 
the wife or the affianced of another, I shall offer her 
the devotion of my life." 

The Confederate officer of the day, God forever 
bless him ! came for me. The army wag-on was ready 
and standing- by Mr. Posey Maddox's car, waiting- to 
receive its precious freig-ht, and a few minutes 
sufficed to transfer it from car to wagon, and, after 
waiting- to see the last sack securely placed in the 
wag-on, I, too, got in and took my seat by the driver. 
A long cold drive was before us, but I was so robust I 
had no fear of the result. 

The driver was a veritable young Jehu, and we got 
over the ground rapidly ; but, owing to a mistake in 
following directions, it was a long time before we 
reached our destination, the course of which must 
have been due west from Jonesboro, and through a 
dense forest. And oh, the beauty of that forest ! It 
will remain a living, vivid memory, as long as life 
endures. Its rich and heav}^ foliage had been but 
lightly tinged by the frosts of autumn, and it was 
rendered more beautiful by the constant dripping of 
rain drops from every leaf and blossom. As the even- 
ing came on, dense, impenetrable clouds canopied the 
earth, and shut out every ray of sunlight, and almost 
every ray of hope. At length night came on, dark 
and weird, and silent, and we were still in the woods, 
without compass or star. 

Just as my brave heart was about to succumb to 



184 LIFE IN DlXm 

despair, a vision of delig-lit burst upon me — a beacon 
lig-ht, yea, hundreds of beacon lig-bts, appeared before 
me, and filled mj soul with joy. The camp-fires of 
General Cleburne's brave men beckoned us onward, 
and g-ave us friendly greeting-. Every revolution of 
the wag-on wheels broug-ht us perceptibl}^ nearer the 
haven of rest. Sabbath-like quiet reig-ned throughout 
the encampment. No boisterous sounds nor profane 
imprecations broke the stillness. But there was a 
sound that reached my ear, filling my soul with joy 
unspeakable. A human voice it was. I had heard it 
before in the slight wail of infancy ; in the merry 
prattle of childhood; in the melodious songs of youth; 
in the tender, well-modulated tones of manhood ; and 
now — there was no mistaking it — in the solemn, earn- 
est invocation to the Lord of Hosts for the salvation 
of the world, for the millenial dawn, and that "peace 
on earth, and good will to men," which would never 
again be broken by the clarion of war, or earth's rude 
alarms. No sweeter voice ever entered the courts of 
Heaven. 

My obliging young driver stopped the horses at a 
favorable distance, and I heard the greater part of 
that grand prayer, and wept for joy. When it was 
finished, we moved on, and were hailed by a sentinel 
who demanded the countersign, I believe it is called. 
The driver satisfied him, and calling to a soldier, I 
asked him if he knew Lieutenant Stokes. "Like a 
book," he answered. "Please tell him his sister Mary 
is here," I said. In a moment I was clasped in his 
arms with the holy pressure of a brother's love. His 
first thought on seeing me was that some calamity 



DURING THE WAH. 185 

must have occurred, and he said, "Sister, is Ma or 
Missouri dead?" "No, Thomie, but Toby is." 

His brave head bowed low and he wept — sobbed 
audibly. I told him of Toby's loving- mention of him, 
and of the boy's hope of Heaven. After his natural 
paroxysm of g-rief had subsided, he looked up, and 
with an ineffable smile, said : 

"Sister, I know you have a secret to tell — what is 
it?" 

"It is this ; I have saved all those precious thing's 
that were sent to me from Dalton, and I have brought 
them to deliver to their rig-htful owners. Help me to 
do so as quickly as possible, that I may g-o back to 
Jonesboro to-night." 

Had a bombshell exploded at his feet, the effect 
could not have been more electrical. He bounded to 
General Granbury's tent with the ag-ility of a deer ; 
he told the news to him and the others assembled 
there ; and he came back, and they all came with 
him ; and had I been a magician, I could not have 
been an object of greater interest. General Granbury 
protested ag-ainst my return to Jonesboro through the 
darkness of the nig-ht, and offered his tent for my 
occupancy, saying" he would g-o in with some of the 
other of&cers. Colonel Robert Young, a friend of 
years' standing-, was also earnest in his efforts to 
keep me from carrying- out my purpose to g-o back, 
and I g-ave it up. I knew that I was with friends, 
and permitted myself to be lifted out of the wag-on 
and conducted to the General's tent. I took a seat 
upon a camp stool which was placed for me about the 



13 



186 LIFE IN Di:SJE 

center of the tent. The General and his staff officers 
sat around, and my dear brother was very near me. 
Thus arrang"ed, a conversation was commenced which 
continued with slight interruptions into the "wee 
sma' hours " of the nig-ht. Colonel Young- seemed to 
have something upon his mind which rendered him 
indifferent to societ}^ or some duty to perform which 
required his attention outside the tent. At length, 
however, he came to the door and asked my brother to 
come out awhile. In a short time both of them came 
in together, and Colonel Young, after asking us to 
excuse the interruption of the conversation, remarked 
that there was something outside that he would like 
for us to see. My brother took me by the hand and 
led me out in front of the tent, and all the officers 
stood in a group around. Imagine my surprise when 
I perceived a long line of soldiers before us, and an 
officer on horseback galloping from one end of the 
line to the other. I ventured to ask my brother if 
they were going to have a moonlight drill without the 
moon? He smiled, and a faint pressure of the hand 
indicated that there was something on the tapis that 
would please me, but I must wait until it was revealed 
to others as well. In much less time than it has taken 
to record this episode a signal was given, and one of 
the grandest cheers ever heard by mortal man 
resounded through the midnight darkness and the 
dense forest, and was echoed over hill and dale. 
Another signal and another cheer, and yet another of 
each, and I broke down completely and cried heartily. 
What had I done that my name should thus be honored 



DURING THE WAE. 187 

bj men enduring- all the hardships of warfare and 
fighting- for mj principles ; and yet to me it was the 
most acceptable compliment ever paid to living- woman. 
I often fancy I hear those voices now blending- in one 
g-rand harmonious shout of praise to the g-reat God of 
Heaven and earth, who has doubtless g-iven rest to 
many of those wear}^ ones. 

Once more in General Granbury's tent, at the 
earnest solicitation of all present, I continued the 
rehearsal of all the Federal army news that I had 
g-leaned from close perusal of the United States news- 
papers and from careless and unsuspicious talkers. 
General Granbury was evidently startled when I told 
him that I had heard Federal officers say "Hood was 
working- to their hand precisely in g-oing- back to 
Tennessee, as Thomas was there with an army that 
was invincible, and would whip him so bad that there 
would not be a Johnnie Reb left to tell the tale ; " and 
they criticised severely the " g-eneralship " of g-iving- 
an invading- army unobstructed route to the g-oal of 
their ambition, which, in this case, was South Caro- 
lina. I was asked by one of my auditors to give my 
impression of the situation, and I did so. As I 
described the mag-nitude of the Federal army, and its 
vindictive spirit as I had seen it, and its implacable 
feeling- towards the South, I saw a shade of sadness 
pass over the noble faces of all present. "Have you 
lost hope of the ultimate success of our cause ?" was a 
question I was compelled to answer, because anxiously 
asked. I, however, imitated a Yankee by asking- a 
question in reply, as to what our resources were, and 



188 LIFE IN DimE 

if they were deemed adequate to cope with a foe 
which had the world to draw from, both for men 
and means? "But have you lost hope?" was the 
question I was called upon to answer without equivo- 
cation. 

Silence and tears which would well up were inter- 
preted to mean what my tongue refused to speak. 
My brother perceiving- this, put his hand on mine as 
it lay motionless upon my lap, and said, "Cheer up, 
sister mine ; if you could have seen ' Old Pat's' men 
on drill this afternoon, you would think we are some 
ourselves." 

Colonel Young" continued to seem very much en- 
g-aged outside, and, since the demonstration in my 
honor, had given us only an occasional glimpse of 
himself. At length he came to the door and said, 
"Lieutenant, I should like to speak to you." My 
brother responded to the call, and soon returned and 
said : " As there is a hard day's march before us for 
to-morrow, we must let the General get a little sleep, 
and this brave sister of mine must need it, too. Come, 
let me conduct you to your room." 

Good-byes were spoken that night which, in the 
providence of God, were destined never to be repeated, 
and Thomie and Colonel Young led the way to a bran 
new tent, never used before, and opened the door that 
I might enter. Thomie said, " M3' room is next to 
yours, sister. Pleasant dreams, and refreshing slum- 
bers,'' and he kissed me good night. "Good night, 
dear brother." "Good night, dear friend," said I, as 
he and Colonel Young left the tent. By the dim light 



nUBINO THE ^VAIl 189 

I surveyed the " room " and its furnishing-s, and wept 
to think that dear Confederate soldiers had deprived 
themselves of comforts that I might be comfortable. 
A handsome buffalo robe lay on the ground ; and a 
coat nicely folded for a pillow, and a gray blanket 
for a cover, invited me to repose. A small, pan of 
water for morning- ablution, and a towel, and a mir- 
ror about the size of a silver dollar, and a comb and 
brush, furnished every needed convenience. I re- 
moved the skirt of my dress that it might not be 
wrinkled in the morning, and my mantle for the same 
cause, and lay down and slept, oh, how sweetly, under 
the protecting care of those noble men, until awakened 
by the sweet familiar voice of my brother, saying, 
" Get up, sister, or you will not be ready for the roll- 
call," was his never-to-be-forgotten morning saluta- 
tion. "As a short horse is soon curried," it required 
only a few moments to make myself presentable, and 
just as I was about announcing myself in that con- 
dition, Thomie again appeared at the door with a 
plate containing my breakfast in one hand, and 
a tin cup containing a decoction, which he called 
coffee, in the other. "Here is your breakfast, sis- 
ter ;" and he added, "the ambulance is waiting to 
carry you to Lovejoy's station. Lieutenant Jewell 
and myself have been detailed to accompany you 
there." 

The army wagons were already falling in line one 
after another and moving onward in a northwesterl}^ 
direction ; and what remained of the infantry and 
cavalry of that once magnificent army, which so often 



190 LIFE IN DIXIE 

had achieved victorj- under General Joseph E. John- 
ston, had made their last grand bivouac on Georgia 
soil, and were moving onward in the line of march to 
Tennessee, under the command of Hood. Thej were 
leaving many a gallant comrade who had bitten the 
dust and drenched the soil of Georgia with their life- 
blood, and although they must have feared that the 
flag they loved so well was now leading them to de- 
feat, yet not one of those true hearts would have 
deserted it for the wealth of India. As they marched 
in a different direction from that I was going to take, 
and the demand for rapid movement was imperative, 
I could not follow them long with my eye, but the 
memory of the little I saw will ever be fresh, 
and, like an inspiration yet to me, their bayonets 
glittered in a perfect halo of glor}^ for the mists 
and clouds of the preceding day had passed away 
during the night, and a blue sky and bright sun 
gladdened the earth. 

The two young lieutenants took seats opposite to 
me in the ambulance. Thus arranged, I caught ever}^ 
movement and look of that dear brother from whom I 
was so soon to part. He never looked more hand- 
some, or appeared to greater advantage. I was his 
guest, and he entertained me with a " feast of reason 
and a flow of soul." At my request he sang some of 
the songs of " auld lang syne," but he preferred to 
talk of our mother and our sister. He recalled inci- 
dents of his childhood, and laughed heartily over 
some of them. He spoke of his Mary in Texas and 
his love for her, and he took from his vest pocket the 



DUBINQ THE WAR. 191 

impression of the foot and hand of his only child, a 
dear little boy whom he had never seen, and kissed 
them, then folded them carefully and put them back in 
his pocket and said : 

" I must hurry back to Texas." 

But back of all this g-lee and apparent hopefulness 
I saw, in characters unmistakable, that he was almost 
bereft of hope, and sustained only b}^ Christian resig- 
nation. 

We knew, by the immense crowd of people stand- 
ing* and sitting" around on improvised seats, that we 
were approaching the station. The two soldiers got 
out of the ambulance with the elasticity of youth and 
health, and Thomie assisted me out. I stood for a 
moment, as if uncertain where to go, and Lieutenant 
Jewell grasped my hand and said : 

Good-bye, dear Miss Mary !" and stepped back into 
the wagon and resumed his seat. 

Seeing a large, square old house, which appeared 
to be full of people, Thomie and I advanced toward it 
a few steps. Suddenly, as if admonished that a 
soldier's duties should have precedence over every- 
thing else, he took me in his arms and kissed me 
fervently once, twice, thrice. I understood for whom 
they were intended — that trio of kisses. Not a word 
did he speak, and when he turned his back on me I 
saw him brush off the silent tears, and more than one 
step was uneven before his nerves became steady and 
he ready to report for dut3^ I felt intuitively that I 
should never look upon his face again, and I watched 
him with riveted eyes until I could no longer see him. 



192 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and then I gazed upon the vehicle containing- him un- 
til it, too, disappeared forever from my sig-ht. Then, 
and not till then, I g-ave way to pent-up sorrow, and 
cried as one without hope — unreservedly. 



DURING THE WAIi. 193 



chap'i;er XIX. 

THK RETURN HOMK. 

From Jonesboro via Augusta — Scenes and Incidents by the 
way. — The lonely journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur. 

Dazed by a full realization that my brother and 
every male relative and friend were in the octopus 
arms of war, cruel and relentless, I stood riveted to 
the spot where my brother had parted from me, until 
a g-entle hand touched my shoulder, and a pleasant 
voice gave me friendly g-reeting*. Turning- 1 saw Mrs. 
Anderson, sister of the brave and gallant Robert 
Alston, whose trag-ic fate is known to every reader in 
this country. 

"I am glad to see you. I have just seen your 
brother Robert," I said. 

" Where ? Where ? Do tell me that I may go to 
him !" cried his devoted sister, laughing and weeping 
alternately. 

Having ascertained that the long train of exiles 
would not leave the station for several hours, I offered 
to conduct the tender-hearted woman to the camp-fire 
of her brother. The route took me over the same 
ground which only a few moments ago I had traveled 
with my own dear brother ; and along which I had 
seen so vividly a lean, gaunt, phantom hand pointing 



194 LIFE IN DIXIE 

at his retreating- from. Even the horses' tracks and 
the ruts made by the wheels could be plainly traced 
by their freshness and the yet quivering- sands ; and as 
I g-azed upon them, I fancied they were connecting- 
links between me and him which were binding- our 
souls tog-ether, and which I^would never g-row weary 
in following-. These reflections were often disturbed 
by questions about "my dear brother Robert," and by 
alternate sobs and laug-hter. The distance seemed 
much g-reater, now that I was walking- it, but at 
leng-th we attained our destination, the headquarters 
of a few of General John Morg-an's g-allant defenders 
of Southern homes and firesides. It would require the 
descriptive power of a Sims or a Paul Hayne to g-ive 
an adequate idea of the meeting- on this occasion of 
this demonstrative brother and sister. I will not 
undertake to do so. He, too, was ready to move in 
that disastrous campaig-n, which lost to us the creme 
de la crane of the Army of the Tennessee, and which 
aided, as if planned by the most astute Federal tacti- 
cian, Sherman, in his "march to the sea." 

During- the interview between Colonel Alston and 
his sister, it developed to him that his pretty home 
had been abandoned to the tender mercies of the ene- 
my by the family in whose care he had left it, and 
that the Yankees had shipped his wife's eleg-ant Eu- 
ropean piano, mirrors and furniture, as well as his 
library, cut g-lass and Dresden china to the North; 
and, besides, in the very malig-nity of envy and sec- 
tional hate, had mutilated and desecrated his house 
in a shameful manner. His imprecations were fear- 
ful; and his vows to g-et even with the accursed Yan- 



DURING THE WAB. 195 

kees were even more so. The lamb of a few moments 
ag-o was transformed into a lion, roaring- and fierce. 
He accompanied his sister and myself on our return to 
the station; and never will I forg-et that walk. 

The station reached, the scene of separation of 
brother and sister was ag-ain enacted, and he, too, went 
to battle-fields, sang-uinary and relentless, she to peace- 
ful retreats undisturbed b^^ cannon's roar. 

Here, as at Jonesboro, the face of the earth was 
literally covered with rude tents and side-tracked cars, 
which were occupied by exiles from home — defenseless 
women and children, and an occasional old man totter- 
ing on the verg-e of the g-rave, awaiting- their turn to 
be transported by over-taxed railroads farther into the 
constantly diminishing land of their love. During- 
the afternoon I boarded an already well-filled south- 
bound train, and moved about among its occapants as 
if at home. For were we not one people, the mothers, 
wives and sisters of Confederates ? The diversity of 
mind, disposition and temper of this long- train of rep- 
resentative women and children of Atlanta, and many 
miles contig-uous, who were carrying- minds and hearts 
brimful of memories never to be obliterated, but 
rather to harden into asphalt preservation, was illus- 
trated in various wa3^s. Some laughed and talked and 
jested, and infused the light and warmth of their 
own sunny natures into others less hopeful ; some 
were morose and churlish, and saw no hope in the 
future and were impatient with those who did see the 
silver lining- beyond the dark cloud suspended over us; 
and some ver}^ plainly indicated that if our cause 
failed, they would lose all faith in a prayer-answering- 



196 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
God; and others saw wisdom and g-oodness in all His 

ways and dispensations, and were willing- to submit to 

any chastisement if it only broug-ht them nearer to the 

Mercy Seat. 

After man}^ delays and adventures, not of sufficient 
importance to relate, I reached Griswoldville. Here 
I was received with open arms b}^ that g-ood old father 
and mother in Israel, Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson and 
his wife, and his excellent famih^ whom I found 
residing- in an old freig-ht car. But they were living- 
in a palace compared to many of their neig-hbors and 
friends, who had scarcely a shelter to protect them 
from the inclemency of the weather. Every moment 
of time with these o-ood people was spent in answering- 
questions and receiving- blessing-s. Not long- after 
this pleasant meeting-, Stoneman's raiders came into 
Griswoldville, and the household effects of Dr. Wilson's 
family were consumed by devouring- torches. All 
their winter clothing-, the doctor's library and his 
manuscript sermons, were burned to ashes. These 
sermons were the result of the study and experience 
of forty j^ears. But this g-rand old soldier of the cross, 
although on the verg-e of threescore years and ten, 
faltered not ; for his eye was fixed on the g-oal of his 
heavenly inheritance. Wherever he went, he still 
preached, and died a few years afterwards at his post 
in Atlanta, having- missed but two preaching- appoint- 
ments in all his ministry, one of these on the Sabbath 
before he died. 

By a circuitous route, which I can now scarcely 
recall, in the course of time I reached Aug-usta, the 
beautiful. I wended my way throug-h the crowded 



DURING THE WAB. 197 

thoroughfares to the residence of friends on Green 
street, where my sister had sojourned for several 
weeks, far from the distracting confusion of warfare. 
After all these long and varied years, I never see that 
Klysian street without feeling as if I would like to 
kneel and kiss the ground whereon she found surcease 
of hostile tread and rancorous foe. 

I could scarcely approach the house, in exterior 
beautiful in all that makes a home attractive. I 
feared that within sorrowful tidings might await me. 
No word of the absent sister had come through the 
enemy's lines since they were first established, and 
now I dreaded to hear. More than once I stood still 
and tried to nerve myself for the worst tidings that 
could be communicated. And then I ascended the 
stone steps and rang the door-bell. When the butler 
came, I hurriedly asked if Miss Stokes was in. As if 
apprehending my state of feelings, he answered with 
a broad African grin : "She is, ma'am." 

The pressure of a mountain was removed from my 
heart, and with a lighter step than I had taken for 
some time I entered that friendly portal, a welcome 
guest. A moment sufficed for him to carry the joyous 
tidings of my presence to my sister, and, as if by 
magic, she was with me. O, the joy and the sadness 
of our meeting ! To say that each of us was glad 
beyond our ability to express it, would be a tame 
statement ; and yet neither of us was happy. There 
was too much sadness connected with ourselves and 
our country to admit of happiness ; yet the report of 
our mother's fortitude and usually good health, and 
the hopeful spirit of our brother, and his numerous 



198 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
messag-es of love and playful pliraseolog-y, cheered my 
sister so much that she rallied and did all she could to 
render my brief stay with her as pleasant as possible. 
And there was a charm in her sweet voice and pleasant 
words that were soothing- to me, and did much to 
assuag-e my own g-rief. Nor were our g-ood friends 
wanting- in efforts of like character. They, too, had 
drank deep of Marah's bitter waters. Two noble 
boys, yet in their teens, had been laid upon the sacri- 
ficial altar, an oblation to their country. And a fair 
young- g-irl had g-one down into the tomb, as much a 
sacrifice to Southern rig-hts as if slain on the battle- 
field. One other g-irl and her war-stricken parents 
survived, and they were devoting- their lives to the 
encourag-ement of those similarly bereaved. 

Althoug-h I knew it would pain her g-reatly, I 
thought it would be wrong- to leave without telling- 
my sister about Toby's death, and, therefore, I told 
her. Like our brother, she wept, but not as one with- 
out hope. She had been his spiritual instructor, and 
thoroug-hly taught him the g-reat and yet easy plan of 
salvation; and I have never doubted that he caug-ht on 
to it, and was supported by the arm of Jesus, as he 
"passed through the dark valley and the shadow of 
death. ^' 

The time for leaving this peaceful retreat came, 
and was inexorable ; nor would I have stayed if I 
could. There was a widowed mother, whose head 
was whitened, not so much by the frost of winters as 
by sorrow and care, grief and bereavement, awaiting 
my coming — oh, so anxiously ! Waiting to hear from 
the soldier son, who, even for her sake, and that of 



nUBING THE WAB. 199 

his gentle young- wife and baby boy in Texas, would 
listen to no plan of escape from the' dangers involved 
by his first presidential vote. Waiting to hear from 
the fair young daughter, whom she preferred to ban- 
ish from home rather than have her exposed to the 
rude chances of war. That she might not be kept in 
painful suspense, I determined not to linger on the 
way. I, therefore, took the morning train on the good 
old reliable Georgia Railroad for Social Circle. The 
parting from my sister pained me exceedingly ; but I 
knew she had put her trust in the Lord, and He would 
take care of her. It may be asked why I did not have 
the same faith regarding the preservation of my 
brother. He, too, was a Christian. "He that taketh 
the sword shall perish by the sword," is a divine 
assertion, and it was constantly repeating itself 
in my ears ; yea, I had heard him repeat it with 
emphasis. 

The trip from Augusta to Social Circle was replete 
with melancholy interest, and differed very materially 
from the trip from Atlanta to Jonesboro. Here those 
who had the courage to do so were returning to their 
homes, and were on the q/ii vivc for every item of 
news obtainable from within the enemy's lines ; but 
nothing satisfactory encouraged their hope of better 
treatment. One marked difference appeared in the 
character of those who were venturing homeward. 
There was scarcely any 3^oung persons — not a single 
young lady. The good old mother railroad was very 
deliberate in her movements, and gave her patrons 
time to get acquainted and chat a little on the way, 
and this we did without restraint. 



200 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

We discussed the situation, and narrated our diver- 
sified experiences, and this interchang-e of thought 
and feeling- broug-ht us very near tog-ether, and made 
us wondrous kind to one another. At one of the sta- 
tions at which the train stopped, and had to wait a 
long- while, I saw several of the young- soldiers from 
Decatur. Among- them was Ryland Holmes, and, I 
think, Mose Brown. 

About a dozen ladies were going- within the 
enemy's lines and would there separate for their re- 
spective homes. We agreed to hire a wagon team and 
driver at Social Circle, that we might take it "turn 
about " in riding to Stone Mountain. As I was the 
only one going beyond that point, I determined to 
take my chance from there for getting to Decatur, 
and go on foot if need be. Our plan was successful, 
as, after much effort, we obtained an old rickety 
wagon, which had doubtless done good service in its 
day, and a yoke of mis-mated oxen, and a negro dri- 
ver. For this equipage we paid an enormous sum, 
and, thinking we ought to have the full benefit of it, 
we all got into the wagon to take a ride. Compassion 
for the oxen, however, caused first one and then 
another to descend to the ground, and march in the 
direction of home, sometimes two abreast and some- 
times in single file. Night overtook us at a house 
only a short distance from the Circle, and in a body 
we appealed for shelter beneath its roof. The man 
of the family was at home, under what circumstances 
I have never heard, and to him we appealed, and from 
him we received an ungracious "permit" to stay in 
his house. Seeing no inviting prospects for rest and 



DUBING THE WAR. 201 

repose, I established myself in a corner and took out 
of mj reticule some nice German wool that had been 
given to me by my friends in Augusta, and cast on the 
stitches for a throat-warmer, or, in the parlance of 
that day, "a comforter." Mine host watched the pro- 
cess with much interest. When the pattern developed, 
he admired it, and expressed a wish to have one like 
it. Glad of the privilege to liquidate my indebted- 
ness for the prospective night's shelter, I told him if 
he would furnish the material I would knit him one 
just like it. The material seemed to be in waiting, and 
was brought forward, soft, pretty lambs' wool thread, 
and I put it in my already well-filled hand satchel to 
await future manipulation. The accommodation in 
the way of bedding was inadequate, and more than 
one of our party passed a sleepless night ; but what 
mattered it ? Were we not Confederate soldiers, or 
very near akin to them ? 

As the first sunbeams were darting about among the 
tree tops, I donned my bonnet and bade adieu to our 
entertainers, and started on my journey homeward, 
walking. Being in the very vigor of womanhood, 
and in perfect health, I never experienced the sensa- 
tion of fatigue, and I verily believe I could have 
walked to my desolated home sooner than the most 
of the resources within our means could have carried 
me ; and I was impatient under the restraint and 
hindrance of slow teams. Hence my start in ad- 
vance of the other ladies. And I wanted to be alone. 
The pent-up tears were constantly oozing out of my 
eyes and trickling down m}^ face, and I wanted to open 
the flood-gates and let them flow unrestrainedly. 

14 



202 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
I wanted to cry aloud like a baby. I plunged into 
the woods, for the seldom traveled road was scarcely a 
barrier to perfect solitude. I walked rapidly, and 
closed my eyes to all the attractions of nature lest 
they divert my mind, and appease my hung-ry heart. 
I wanted to cry, and was even then doing- so, before I 
g-ot ready for it. At length I came to a rivulet of 
crystal water, as pure as the dew drops of Arcadia. I 
sat down beside it and ming-led the ang-uished tears of 
my very soul with its sparkling-, ever-chang-ing-, nec- 
tarian waters. I bathed my hot face and hands in the 
pellucid stream, and still the lachrymal fountain 
flowed on. I thoug-ht of my lonely mother, sur- 
rounded by those who were seeking the subversion of 
all that her heart held dear, and I cried. I thought of 
my brother — of his toilsome marches and weary limbs, 
and of his consecrated life — and I cried. I thought of 
the fair young sister, still hopeful in early woman- 
hood, and I refused to be comforted, and wept bitterly. 
In this disconsolate frame of mind, I was ready to 
give up all hope and yield to direful despair. At this 
fearful crisis a still, small voice whispered, "Peace, 
be still!" The glamour of love invested sky and 
earth with supernal glory. The fountain of tears 
ceased to flow, and I looked around upon the handi- 
work of the Great Supreme Being in whose creation I 
was but an atom, and wondered that He should have 
been mindful of me — that He should have given sur- 
cease of agony to my sorrowing soul. All nature 
changed as if by magic, and the witchery of the scene 
was indescribable. The pretty wildwood flowers, as I 
bent my admiring gaze upon them, seemed to say in 



DUBING 'THE WAB. 203 

beatiful silent languag^e, "Look aloft." The birds, 
as they trilled their morning- roundelay, said in mu- 
sical numbers, "Look aloft; " and the merrj- rivulet at 
my feet affected seriousness, and whispered, "Look 
aloft." Thus admonished, "in that moment of dark- 
ness, with scarce hope in my heart," I looked aloft — 
looked aloft. 

By and by the ladies came in sight, some walking- 
and others riding- in the wagon ; and I pitied most 
those who were in the wagon. As soon as they were 
within speaking distance, one of the ladies said : 
"You should have stayed for breakfast. It was quite 
appetizing." Reminded of what I had lost, I was led 
to compare it with what I had gained, and I would 
not have exchanged loss and gain for anything in the 
world. I had to admit, however, that there was a 
vacuum that needed replenishing; but I was inured to 
hunger, and, save a passing thought, I banished all 
desire for food, and thought only of the loved ones, so 
near and yet so far, and in spite of m^'self the foun- 
tain of tears was again running over. 

The long tramp to Stone Mountain was very 
lonely. Not a living thing overtook or passed us, and 
we soon crossed over the line and entered a war- 
stricken section of country where stood chimneys onl3% 
where lately were pretty homes and prosperity, now 
departed. Ah, those chimneys standing amid smold- 
ering rviins! No wonder they w^ere called "Sherman's 
sentinels," as they seemed to be keeping guard over 
those scenes of desolation. The very birds of the air 
and beasts of the field had fled to other sections. By 
constant and unflagging locomotion we reached Stone 



204 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
Mountain sometime during- the nig-ht. We went to 
the hotel and asked shelter and protection, and re- 
ceived both, but not where to lay our heads, as those 
who had preceded us had filled every available place. 
I had friends in the villag-e, but I had no assurance 
that they had remained at home and weathered the 
cyclone of war. Therefore, early in the morning-, 
hung-ry and footsore, I started all alone walking to 
Decatur. The solitude was terrific, and the feeling- 
of awe was so intense that I was startled by the break- 
ing- of a twig-, or the g-ruesome sound of my own 
footsteps. Constantly reminded by ruined homes, I 
realized that I was indeed within the arbitrary lines 
of a cruel, merciless foe, and but for my lonely mother, 
anxiously awaiting m}^ return, I should have turned 
and run for dear life until again within the boundaries 
of Dixie. 

I must have walkea very rapidly, for, before I was 
aware of it, I found myself approaching- Judge Bryce's 
once beautiful but now dilapidated home. He and 
his g-ood wife gave me affectionate greeting- and some- 
thing- to inflate a certain vacuum which had become 
painfully clamorous. And they also g-ave me that 
which was even more acceptable — a large yam potato 
and a piece of sausage to take to my mother. 

I begged Judg-e Bryce to g-o with me at least part 
of the way to Decatur, but lie was afraid to leave his 
wife. His experience with the Yankees had not been 
an exceptional case. They had robbed him of every- 
thing- of value, silver, gold, etc., and what they could 
not carry away they had destroyed, and he denied 
most emphatically that there was a sing-le gentleman 



DURING THE WAB. 205 

in the Federal army. In vain did I tell him that we 
owed the preservation of our lives to the protection 
extended us bj the few gentlemen who were in it. 

After a brief rest, I resumed my way homeward, 
and oh, with what heart-sickening- forebodings I ap- 
proached that sacred though desolate abode ! Anon 
the little town appeared in the distance, and upon its 
very limits I met several of Colonel Garrard's calvary 
officers. Among them a diversity of temper was dis- 
played. Some of them appeared very glad to see me, 
and, to anxious inquires regarding my mother, they 
replied that they had taken good care of her in my ab- 
sence, and that I ought to have rewarded them for 
having done so by bringing "my pretty young sister" 
home with me. Although I did not entertain one 
iota of respect for the Federal army as a whole, I knew 
there were a few in its ranks who were incapable of 
the miserable conduct of the majority, and my heart 
went out in very tender gratitude to them, especially 
those who had sought to lessen the anguish of my 
mother. These men threw the reins into the hands of 
out-riders, and got off their horses and walked with me 
to the door of my home. Their headquarters were 
still in the yard and had been ever since first estab- 
lished there, with the exception of a very few days. 
My return was truly a memorable occasion. Manifes- 
tations assured me that the highest as well as the 
lowest in that command was glad to see me, and in 
their hearts welcomed me home. To good Mr. Fred 
Williams I was indebted, in a large measure, for kindly 
feeling and uniform respect from that portion of the 
Federal army with which I came in contact. 



206 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 

My mother had seen me coming- and had retreated 
into as secluded a place as she could find, to compose 
herself for the meeting", but the effort was in vain. 
She trembled like an aspen leaf, her lips quivered and 
her tongue could not articulate the words she would 
have spoken. Alas ! the tension was more than she 
could bear. I dwelt upon the fact that Thomie and 
Missouri were well and had sent her a world of 
love. I tried to infuse hope and cheerfulness into 
everything- I told her, but she could not see it, and her 
poor over-taxed heart could bear up no long-er, and she 
cried as Rachel weeping- for her children, long- and 
piteousl3\ No purer tears were ever borne b}^ heaven- 
commissioned Peri into the presence of a compassion- 
ate Savior, than those shed by that patriotic thoug-h 
sorrowinsf mother. 



DURING THE WAR. 207 



CHAPTER XX. 

ON THE VKRGK OF STARVATION. 

A worn-out army horse is found— Uncle Mack makes a wagon— 
I make a unique trip— Starvation is warded off— Dangers and 
scenes by the way. 

" What is it, Ma ? Has anything- happened ?" 
" No, only Mag-g-ie Benedict has been here crying- 
as if her heart would break, and saying- that her chil- 
dren are beg-g-ing- for bread, and she has none to g-ive 
them. Give me a little of the meal or hominy that 
you have, that we may not starve until we can g-et 
something- else to eat, and then take the remainder to 
her that she may cook it as quickly as possible for her 
suffering- children." 

We had spent the preceding- day in picking out 
g-rains of corn from cracks and crevices in bureau 
drawers, and other improvised troug-hs for Federal 
horses, as well as g-athering- up what was scattered 
upon the g-round. In this way by dilig-ent and perse- 
vering- work, about a half bushel was obtained from 
the now deserted camping- ground of Garrard's cavalry, 
and this corn was thoroug-hly washed and dried, and 
carried by me and Telitha to a poor little mill (which 
had escaped conflag-ration, because too humble to at- 
tract attention), and g-round into coarse meal. Return- 
ing- from this mill, and carrying-, myself, a portion of 
the meal, I saw in the distance my mother coming- to 



208 LIFE IN DIXIE 

meet me. Apprehensive of evil, I ran to meet her 
and asked : 

" What is it, Ma ? Has anything happened ?" 
With flushed face and tear-toned voice she replied 
as already stated. My heart was touched and a 
division was soon made. Before starting on this er- 
rand, I thought of the probable delay that inexperi- 
ence and perhaps the want of cooking utensils and 
fuel might occasion, and suggested that it would 
hasten the relief to the children to cook some bread 
and mush and carry it to them already for use. A 
boiling pot, left on the camping-ground, was soon on 
the fire ready to receive the well-prepared batter, 
which was to be converted into nutritious mush or 
porridge. Nor was the bread forgotten. While the 
mush was cooking the hoe-cakes were baking in good 
old plantation style. These were arranged one upon 
another, and tied up in a snow-white cloth ; and a tin 
bucket, also a trophy from the company, was filled 
with hot mush. I took the bread, and Telitha the 
bucket, and walked rapidly to Doctor Holmes' resi- 
dence, where Maggie Benedict, whose husband was 
away in the Confederate army, had rooms for herself 
and her children. The Rev. Doctor and his wife had 
refugeed, leaving this young mother and her childreu 
alone and unprotected. 

The scene which I witnessed will never be oblit- 
erated from my memory. On the doorsteps sat the 
young mother, beautiful in desolation, with a baby in 
her arms, and on either side of her a little one, pite- 
ously crying for something to eat. " Oh, mama, I 
want something to eat, so bad." " Oh, mama, I am 



BUBIKG THE WAE. 209 

so hungry— g-ive me something to eat." Thus the 
children were begging for what the mother had not to 
give. She could only give them soothing words. But 
relief was at hand. Have you ever enjoyed the satis- 
faction of appeasing the hunger of children who had 
been without food until on the verge of starvation ? 
If not, one of the keenest enjoyments of life has been 
denied you. O, the thankfulness of such a privilege ! 
And oh, the joy, melancholy though it be, of hearing 
blessings invoked upon you and yours by the mother 
of those children ! 

While this needful food was being eaten with a zest 
known only to the hungry, I was taking in the situ- * 
ation, and devising in my own mind means by which 
to render more enduring relief. The meal we had on 
hand would soon be exhausted, and, though more 
might be procured in the same way, it would be haz- 
ardous to depend upon that way only. "God helps 
those who help themselves," is a good old reliable 
proverb that cannot be too deeply impressed upon the 
mind of every child. To leave this young mother in 
a state of absolute helplessness, and her innocent lit- 
tle ones dependent upon the precarious support which 
might be gleaned from a devastated country, would be 
cruel indeed ; but how to obviate this state of affairs 
was a serious question. 

The railroad having been torn up in every direc- 
tion communicating with Decatur, there seemed to be 
but one alternative— to walk— and that was not prac- 
ticable with several small children. 

" Maggie, this state of affairs cannot be kept up ; 
have you no friend to whom you can go ?" 



210 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Yes," she replied. "Mr. Benedict has a sister 
near Madison, who has wanted me and the children to 
g"o and stay with her ever since he has been in the 
army, but I was too independent to do it." 

" Absurd! Well, the time has come that you must 
go. Get the children ready, and I will call for you 
soon," and without any positive or defined plan of 
procedure, I took leave of Mag-gie and her children. I 
was working by faith, and the Lord directed my foot- 
steps. On my way home I hunted up " Uncle Mack," 
a faithful old negro man, who preferred freedom in 
the midst of privation with his own white people, to 
following the Federal army around on "Uncle Sam's" 
pay-roll, and got from him a promise that he would 
construct a wagon out of odds and ends left upon 
the streets of Decatur. The next thing to be done 
was to provide a horse, and not being amagician, 
nor possessed of Aladdin's lamp, this under- 
taking must have seemed chimerical to those who had 
not known how often and how singularly these 
scarcely formulated plans had developed into success. 
This day had been one of constant and active service, 
and was only one of the many that furnished from 
sixteen to eighteen working hours. No wonder, then, 
that exhausted nature succumbed to sleep that knew 
no waking until the dawn of another day. 

Next morning, before the sun rose, accompanied 
by the Morton girls, I was on my way to " the cane- 
brakes." I had seen many horses, whose places had 
been taken by others captured from farmers, aban- 
doned and sent out to the cane-brake to recuperate or 
to die, the latter being the more probable. Without 



DURING THE WAR. 211 

any definite knowledg-e of the locality, but guided by 
an over-ruling- providence, I went direct to the cane- 
brake, and there soon made a selection of a horse, 
which, from the assortment at hand, could not have 
been improved upon. By a dextrous throw of a lasso, 
constructed and managed by the young friends already 
mentioned, he was soon captured and on his way to 
Decatur to enter "rebel" service. His most con- 
spicious feature was a pair of as fine eyes as ever 
illuminated a horse's head, large, brown and lus- 
trous. There were other conspicuous things about 
him, too ; for instance, branded upon each of his sides 
were the tell-tale letters, " U. S.," and on his back 
was an immense sore which also told tales. By twelve 
o'clock, noon. Uncle Mack appeared upon the scene, 
pulling something which he had improvised which 
baffled description, and which, for the sake of the 
faithful service I obtained from it, I will not attempt 
to describe, though it might provoke the risibilities of 
the readers. Suffice it to say that as it carried living 
freight in safety over many a bridge, in honor of this 
I will call it a wagon. Uncle Mack soon had the 
horse secured to this vehicle by ropes and pieces of 
crocus sack, for harness was as scarce a commodity as 
wagons and horses. I surveyed the equipage from 
center to circumference, with emotions pathetic and 
amusing. It was awfully suggestive. And as I viewed 
it in all its grotesqueness my imagination pictured 
a collapse, and my return home from no very distant 
point upon my all-fours, with one of the fours drag- 
ging after me in a dilapidated condition. I distinctly 
heard the derisive gibberish and laughter of old Mo- 



212 LIFIJ IN DIXIE 

mus, and thoug-ht I should explode in the effort to 
keep from joining- in his mirthfulness. As I turned 
mj head to take a slj g-lance at my mother, our eyes 
met, and all restraint was removed. With both of us 
laug-hter and sobs contended for the master}^, and 
merriment and tears literally blended. Thus equipped, 
and with a benediction from my mother, expressed 
more by looks and acts than by words, I g-athered 
the ropes and started like Bayard Taylor to take 
"Views Afoot," and at the same time accomplish an 
errand of mercy which would lead me, as I led the 
horse, over a portion of country that in dreariness 
and utter desolation baffles description — enoug^h to 
know that Sherman's forag-ing- trains had been over it. 
Leading- the horse, which was already christened 
"Yankee," to Dr. Holmes' door, I called Mag-g-ie to 
come on with her children. 

"I can't bring- my thing-s out. Miss Mary. Some- 
body must come to carry them and put them in the 
wagon." 

"I can," I said, and suiting- the action to the word, 
ran into the house where, to my amazement, three 
larg-e trunks confronted me. What was to be done ? 
If they could be g-ot into the wag-on, what g-uarantee 
was there that poor Yankee could haul them in that 
tumblesome vehicle ? However, I went for Uncle 
Mack to put the trunks in the wag-on, and in front of 
them, in close proximity to the horse's heels, was 
placed a chair in which Mag-g-ie seated herself and 
took her baby in her lap, the other children nestling- 
on rug's at her feet. 

Poor Yankee seemed to feel the importance of his 



DURING THE WAB. 213 

mission, and jog-g-ed along- at a pretty fair speed, and 
I, who walked by his side and held the ropes, found 
myself more than once oblig^ed to strike a trot in order 
to maintain control of him. Paradoxical as it ma}^ 
seem, I enjoyed this new phase in my service to the 
Confederacy — none but a patriot could render it, and 
the whole thing seemed invested with the glamour of 
romance, the sequel of which would be redemption 
from all connection with a people who could thus 
afflict another people of equal rights. While Maggie 
hummed a sweet little lullaby to her children, I con- 
templated the devastation and ruin on every side. 
Not a vestige of anything remained to mark the sites 
of the pretty homes which had dotted this fair coun- 
try before the destroyer came, except, perhaps, a 
standing chimney now and then. And all this struck 
me as the willing sacrifice of a peerless people for a 
great principle, and looking through the dark vista I 
saw light ahead — I saw white-robed peace proclaiming 
that the end of carnage had come. Even then, as I 
jogged along at a snail's pace (for be it known Yankee 
was not uniform in his gait, and as his mistress had 
relaxed the tension of the ropes, he had relaxed the 
speed of his steps) up a pretty little hill from whose 
summit I had often gazed with rapturous admiration 
upon the beautiful mountain of granite near by, I had 
so completely materialized the Queen of Peace that I 
saw her on the mountain's crest, scattering with lav^- 
ish hand blessings and treasures as a recompense for 
the destruction so wantonly inflicted. Thus my hope- 
ful temperament furnished consolation to me, even 
under darkest circumstances. 



214 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 

Ma^g-ie and the children became restive in their 
pent-up limits, and the latter clamored for something 
to eat, but there was nothing" to g"ive them. Nig-ht 
was upon us, and we had come only about eight miles, 
and not an animate thing had we seen since we left 
Decatur, not even a bird, and the silence was unbroken 
save by the sound of the horse's feet as he trod upon 
the rocks, and the soft, sweet humming of the young 
mother to her dear little ones. Step by step we 
seemed to descend into the caverns of darkness, and 
my brave heart began to falter. The children, awe- 
struck, had ceased their appeal for bread, and nestled 
closer to their mother, and that they might all the 
more feel her protecting presence, she kept up a con- 
stant crooning sound, pathetic and sad. Step by step 
we penetrated the darkness of night^a night without 
a moon, starless and murky. The unerring instinct 
of an animal was all we had to guide us in the beaten 
road, which had ceased to be visible to human ken. 

A faint glimmer of light, at apparently no very 
great distance, gave hope that our day's journey was 
almost ended. Yankee also caught the inspiration 
and walked a little faster. Though the time seemed 
long, the cabin, for such it proved to be, was finally 
reached, and I dropped the ropes, and, guided by the 
glimmer of light through the cracks, went to the door 
and knocked, at the same time announcing my name. 
The door was quickly opened. Imagine my surprise 
when recognized and cordially welcomed by a sweet 
friend, whose most humble plantation cabin was a 
pretty residence in comparison with the one she now 
occupied. Maggie, too, as the daughter of a well- 



DVRING THE WAB. 215 

known physician, received cordial welcome for herself 
and children. And thus a kind Providence provided 
a safe lodging place for the night. 

Nature again asserted itself, and the children 
asked for something to eat. The good lady of the 
house kissed them, and told them that supper would 
soon be ready. The larger one of her little sons drew 
from a bed of ashes, which had been covered by glow- 
ing coals, some large yam potatoes which he took to 
a table and peeled. He then went outside the cabin 
and drew from a keg an earthen-ware pitcher full of 
sparkling persimmon beer, which he dispensed to us 
in cups, and then handed around the potatoes. And 
how much this repast was enjoyed! Good sweet 
yams thoroughly cooked, and the zestful persimmon 
beer ! And I thought of the lonely mother at a deso- 
lated home, whose only supper had been made of 
coarse meal, ground from corn which her own hands 
had helped to pick from crevices and cracks m impro- 
vised troughs, where Garrard's cavalry had fed their 
horses. After awhile the sweet womanly spirit that 
presided over this little group, got a quilt and a shawl 
or two, and made a pallet for the children. The boys 
put more wood upon the fire, and some in the jambs 
of the fireplace, to be used during the night; and then 
they went behind us and lay down upon the floor, 
with seed cotton for pillows, and the roof for cover- 
ing. Our kind hostess placed additional wraps over 
the shoulders of Maggie and myself, and we three sat 
up in our chairs and slept until the dawn. 

Accustomed to looking after outdoor interests, I 
went to see how Yankee was coming on, and found 



216 LIFE IN DIXIE 

him none the worse for the preceding- day's toil. 
Everything- indicated that he had fared as sumptu- 
ously as we had — a partly-eaten pumpkin, corn, whole 
ears yet in the trough, and fodder near by, plainly 
showed the g-enerosity of the noble little family that 
took us in and gave us the best they had. After break- 
fast we bade adieu to the good mother and her chil- 
dren, and went on our way, if not rejoicing-, at least 
feeling better for having seen and been with such 
g-ood people. There was a strong" tie between us all. 
The husband and father was oif in the army, like our 
loved ones. The generous feeding- g-iven to our steed 
had so braced him up that he beg-an to walk faster, 
and was keenly appreciative of every kind word ; and 
I and he formed a friendship for each other that con- 
tinued to his dying- day. The road was very roug-h 
and hilly, and more than once he showed signs of 
fatigue ; but a word of encouragement seemed to re- 
new his strength, and he walked bravely on. Maggie 
would perhaps have lightened his load by walking 
now and then, but the jolting- of the wagon kept the 
trunks in perpetual motion, and the lives of the chil- 
dren would thereby have been jeopardized. 

Nothing of special interest transpired this second 
day of our journey. The same fiend of destruction 
had laid his ruthless hand upon everything within 
his reach. The woods had been robbed of their beauty 
and the fields of their products ; not even a bird was 
left to sing a requiem over the scene of desolation, or 
an animal to suggest where once had been a habita- 
tion. Once, crouching near a standing chimney, 
there was a solitary dog who kept at bay every at- 



JJUBING THE WAR. 217 

tempt to approach — no kind word would conciliate or 
put him off his guard. Poor, lonely sentinel ! Did 
he remember that around the once cheerful hearth- 
stone he had been admitted to a place with the family 
group ? Was he awaiting- his master's return ? Ah, 
who can know the emotions, or the dim reasonings of 
that faithful brute ? 

Night again came on and I discovered that we 
were approaching the hospitable mansion of Mr. 
Montgomery, an excellent, courtly country gentleman, 
who was at home under circumstances not now 
remembered. He and his interesting family gladly 
welcomed me and my little charge, and entertained us 
most hospitably. The raiders had been here and 
helped themselves bountifully, but they had spared 
the house for another time, and that other time came 
soon, and nothing was left on the site of this beauti- 
ful home but ubiquitous chimneys. 

An early start the next day enabled Yankee to 
carry Maggie and her children and the trunks to 
Social Circle in time to take the noon train for Mad- 
ison. So far as Maggie and her children were con- 
cerned, I now felt that I had done all that I could, and 
that I must hasten back to my lonely mother at Deca- 
tur ; but Maggie's tearful entreaties not to be left 
among strangers prevailed with me, and I got aboard 
the train with her, and never left her until T had 
placed her and her children in the care of good Mr. 
Thrasher at Madison, to be conveyed by him to the 
home of Mrs. Reeves, her husband's sister. 

In Madison, I too had dear friends and relatives, 
with whom I spent the night, and the morning-'s train 

15 



218 LIFE IIS DIXIE 

bore me back to Social Circle, then the terminus of the 
Georg-ia Railroad — the war fiend having- destroyed 
every rail between there and Atlanta. Arriving- there, 
imag-ine my surprise and indig-nation when I learned 

that Mr. R , whom I had paid in advance to care 

for Yankee while I was g-one to Madison, had sent him 
out to his sorg-hum mill and put him to g-rinding- cane; 
and it was with much difficulty and delay that I g-ot 
him in time to start on my homeward journey that 
afternoon. Instead of his being rested, he was liter- 
ally broken dov/n, and m}^ pity for him constrained 
me to walk every step of the way back to Decatur. 
While waiting- for the horse, I purchased such articles 
of food as I could find. For instance, a sack of flour, for 
which I paid a hundred dollars, a bushel of potatoes, 
several g-allons of sorg-hum, a few pounds of butter, 
and a few pounds of meat. Even this was a heavy 
load for the poor jaded horse. Starting so late I could 
only get to the hospitable home of Mr. Crew, distant 
only about three miles from "The Circle." 

Before leaving Mr. Crew's the next morning, I 
learned that an immense Yankee raid had come out 
from Atlanta, and had burned the bridge which I had 
crossed only two days ago. This information caused 
me to. take another route to Decatur, and my heart 
lost much of its hope, and my step its alacrity. Yet 
the Ivord sustained me in the discharge of duty. I 
never wavered when there was a principle to be guarded 
or a duty to be performed. Those were praying days 
with me, and now I fervently invoked God's aid and 
protection in my perilous undertaking, and I believed 
that He would grant aid and protection. 



DURING TILE WAR. 



219 



That I might give much needed encouragement to 
Yankee, I walked by his side with m}^ hand upon his 
shoulder much of the time, an act of endearment 
which he greatly appreciated, and proved that he did 
so by the expression of his large brown eyes. One of 
my idiosyncrasies through life has been that of count- 
ing everything, and as I journeyed homeward, I found 
myself counting my steps from one to a thousand and 
one. As there is luck in odd numbers, says Rory 
O'Moore, I always ended with the traditional odd 
number, and by telling Yankee how much nearer 
home we were. And I told him many things, among 
them, sotio voce, that I did not believe he was a Yan- 
kee, but a captured rebel. If a tuft of grass appeared 
on the road side, he was permitted to crop it; or if a 
muscadine vine with its tempting grapes was discov- 
ered, he cropped the leaves off the low shrubbery, 
while I gathered the grapes for my mother at home 
with nothing to eat save the one article of diet, of 
which I have told before. 

A minute description of this portion of the war- 
stricken country would fill a volume; but only the 
leading incidents and events of the journey are admis- 
sible in a reminiscence of war times. In the early part 
of the day, during this solitary drive, I came to a cot- 
tage by the wayside that was a perfect gem— an 
oasis, an everything that could thrill the heart by its 
loveliness. Flowers of every hue beautified the 
grounds and sweetened the air, and peace and plenty 
seemed to hold undisputed sway. The Fiend of 
Destruction had not yet reached this little Eden. 
Two gentlemen were in the yard conversing. I 



230 LIFE IN DIXIE 

perceived at a g-lance that they were of the clerical 
order, and would fain have spoken to them ; but not 
wishing- to disturb them, or attract attention to m3'self , 
I was passing- by as unobtrusively as possible, when I 
was espied and recog-nized by one of them, who proved 
to be that saintly man. Rev. Walter Branham. He 
introduced me to his friend. Professor Shaw of Oxford. 
Their sympathy for me was plainly expressed, and 
they g"ave me much needed instruction reg-arding- the 
route, and sug-g-ested that I would about g-et to Rev. 
Henry Clark's to put up for the nig-ht. With a hearty 
shake of the hand, and "God bless you, noble woman," 
I pursued my lonely way and they went theirs. No 
other adventure enlivened the day, and poor patient 
Yankee did the best he. could, and so did I. It was 
obvious that he had done about all he could. Grinding- 
sorghum under a hard taskmaster, with an empty 
stomach, had told on him, and he could no long-er 
quicken his pace at the sound of a friendly voice. 

At leng-th we came in sight of " Uncle Henry 
Clark's " place. I stood amazed, bewildered. I felt 
as if I would sink to the ground, 3^ea, through it. I 
was riveted to the spot on which I stood. I could not 
move. At length I cried — cried like a woman in 
despair. Poor Yankee must have cried too (for water 
ran out of his eyes), and in some measure I was quieted, 
for misery loves company, and I began to take in the 
situation more calml}^ Elegant rosewood and mahog- 
any furniture, broken into a thousand fragments, 
covered the face of the ground as far as I could see ; 
and china and glass looked as if it had been sown. 
And the house, wha,t of that ? Alas ! it too had been 



DURING THE WAR. 221 

scattered to the four winds of heav^en in the form of 
smoke and ashes. Not even a chimney stood to mark 
its site. Near by stood a rowr of neg^ro cabins, intact, 
showing- that while the conflag-ration was g"oing- on 
they had been sedulously g-uarded. And these cabins 
were occupied by the slaves of the plantation. Men, 
women and children stalked about in restless uncer- 
tainty, and in surly indifference. They had been led 
to believe that the country would be apportioned to 
them, but they had sense enoug^h to know that such a 
mig"hty revolution involved trouble and delay, and 
they were supinely waiting- developments. Neither 
man, woman nor child approached me. There was 
mutual distrust and mutual avoidance. 

It took less time to take in the situation than it 
has to describe it. The sun was almost down, and as 
he turned his larg-e red face upon me, I fancied he 
fain would have stopped in his course to see me out of 
this dilemma. What was I to do ? The next nearest 
place that I could remember that would perhaps g-ive 
protection for the nig-ht was Mr. Fowler's, and this 
was my only hope. With one hand upon Yankee's 
shoulder, and the ropes in the other, I moved on, and 
not until my expiring- breath will I forg-et the plead- 
ing- look which that poor dumb animal turned upon 
me when I started. Utterly hopeless, and in my 
hands, he wondered how I could thus exact more of 
him. I wondered myself. But what was I to do but 
to move on? And with continuous supplication for 
the Lord to have mercy upon me, I moved on. More 
than once the poor horse turned that look, beseeching- 
and pathetic, upon me. It frightened me, I did not 



222 LIFE IN DIXIE 

understand it, and still moved on. At last the hope 
of making himself understood forsook him, and he 
deliberately laid himself down in the road. I knelt 
by his side and told him the true state of affairs, and 
implored him not to desert me in this terrible crisis. 
I told him how cruel it would be to do so, and used 
many arg-uments of like character ; but they availed 
nothing-. He did not move, and his large, lustrous 
brown eyes seemed to sa}^ for him : "I have done all 
I can, and can do no more." And the sun could bear 
it no longer, and hid his crimson face behind a great 
black cloud. 

What could I do but rise from m}' imploring atti- 
tude and face my perilous situation? "Lord have 
mercy upon me," was my oft-repeated invocation. 
The first thing which greeted my vision when I rose 
to my feet was a very distant but evidently an advanc- 
ing object. I watched it with bated breath, and soon 
had the satisfaction of seeing a man on muleback. I 
ran to meet him, saying: " O, sir, I know the good 
Lord has sent you here." And then I recounted my 
trouble, and received most cordial sympathy from one 
who had been a Confederate soldier, but who was now 
at home in consequence of wounds that incapacitated 
him for further service. When he heard all, he said : 

"I would take you home with me, but I have to 
cross a swimming creek before getting there, and I 
am afraid to undertake to carry you. Wait here until 
I see these negroes. They are a good set, and what- 
ever they promise, the}^ will, I think, carry out faith- 
fully." 

The time seemed interminable before he came 



BVBING THE WAE. 223 

back, and tiig-ht, black nig-ht, had set in ; and yet a 
quiet resig-nation sustained me. 

When my benefactor returned, two negro men 
came with him, one of whom broug-ht a lantern, brig-ht 
and cheery. "I have arrang-ed for you to be cared for 
here," said he. "Several of the old house servants of 
Mrs. Clark know you, and they will prove themselves 
worthy of the trust we repose in them." I accepted 
the arrangement made by this g-ood man, and en- 
trusted myself to the care of the neg-roes for the 
night. This I did with g-reat trepidation, but as soon 
as I entered the cabin an assurance of safety filled my 
mind with peace, and reconciled me to my surround- 
ing's. The "mammy" that presided o.ver it met me 
with a cordial welcome, and assured me that no trouble 
would befall me under her roof. An easy chair was 
placed for me in one corner in comfortable proximity 
to a larg-e plantation fire. In a few minutes the men 
came in bring-ing- my flour, potatoes, syrup, bacon, etc. 
This sig-ht g-ave me real satisfaction, as I thoug-ht of 
my poor patient mother at home, and hoped that in 
some way I should yet be able to convey to her this 
much needed freig-ht. I soon espied a table on which 
was piled many books and mag-azines ; "Uncle Henry 
Clark's" theological books were well represented. I 
proposed reading- to the women, if they would like to 
hear me, and soon had their undivided attention, as 
well as that of several of the men, who sat on the 
doorsteps. In this way several hours passed, and then 
"mammy" said, "You must be g:etting- sleepy." 
"Oh, no," I replied, "I frequently sit up all night 
reading." But this did not satisfy her; she had 



224 LIFE IN DIXIE 

devised in her own mind something more hospitable 
for her g-uest, and she wanted to see it carried out. 
Calling- into requisition the assistance of the men, she 
had two larg-e cedar chests placed side by side, and 
out of these chests were taken nice clean quilts, and 
snow-white counterpanes, and sheets, and pillows — 
Mrs. Clark's beautiful bed-clothing- — and upon those 
chests was made a pallet upon a which a queen might 
have reposed with comfort. It was so tempting- in its 
cleanliness that I consented to lie down. The sole 
occupants of that room that nig-ht were myself and 
my hostess — the aforesaid black "mammy." Rest, 
not sleep, came to my relief. The tramping- of feet, 
and now and- then the muffled sound of human voices, 
kept me in a listening- attitude, and it must be con- 
fessed in a state of painful apprehension. Thus the 
night passed. 

With the dawn of day I was up and ready to meet 
the day's requirements. "Mammy's" first greeting- 
was, "What's your hurry?" " I am accustomed to 
early rising. May I open the door ?" The first thing- 
I saw was Yankee, and he was standing- eating- ; but 
he was evidently too weak to attempt the task of g-et- 
ting- that cumbersome vehicle and its freig-ht to Deca- 
tur. So I arrang-ed with one of the men to put a steer 
to the wag-on and carry them home. This he was to 
do for the sum of one hundred dollars. After an ap- 
petizing- breakfast, I started homeward, leading- 
Yankee in the rear of this turnout. Be it remembered, 
I did not leave without making- ample compensation 
for my nig-ht's entertainment. 

No event of particular interest occurred on the way 



DURING THE WAB. 225 

to Decatur. Yankee walked surprising-l}^ well, emd 
the little steer acquitted himself nobly. In due time 
Decatur appeared in sig-lit, and then there ensued a 
scene which for pathos defies description. Matron 
and maiden, mother and child, each with a tin can, 
picked up off the enemy's camping--g-round, ran after 
me and beg-g-ed for just a little something- to eat — ^just 
enoug"h to keep them from starving-. Not an appli- 
cant was refused, and by the time the poor, rickety, 
cumbersome wag-on reached its destination, its con- 
tents had been g-reatly diminished. But there was 
yet enoug-h left to last for some time the patient, lov- 
ing mother, the faithful Telitha, and myself. 

A summary of the trip developed these facts : To 
the faithfulness of Uncle Mack was due the holding- 
tog-ether of the most g-rotesque vehicle ever dig-nified 
by the name of wag-on ; over all that road it remained 
intact, and returned as g-ood as when it started. And 
but for the sorg-hum g-rinding-, poor Yankee would 
have acted his part unfaltering•l3^ As for myself, I 
labored under the hallucination that I was a Confed- 
erate soldier, and deemed no task too g-reat for me to 
essay, if it but served either directly or indirectly 
those who were fig-hting- my battles. 



226 LIFE IN DIXIE 

CHAPTER XXI. 

A SKCOND TRIP FOR SUPPLIE:S. 

Gathering "fodder" frora a cane-brake as a preliminary — The 
lonely journey — Changing- Yankee's name— I meet the Fed- 
eral raiders. 

At an early hour in the morning- of a brig"ht autum- 
nal day, that memorable year 1864— the saddest of 
them all — Yankee was roped (not bridled, mark you), 
and crocus sacks, four for him, one for Telitha, and 
one for myself, thrown over his back, and we three, 
boon companions in diversified industries, scampered 
off to a neig-hboring cane-brake — a favorite resort in 
those days, but now, alas for human g-ratitude ! never 
visited for the sake of " auld lang- S3^ne." 

Perfect health — thanks to the parents who trans- 
mitted no constitutional taint to my veins — unusual 
strength, and elasticity of motion, soon carried me 
there, and having- secured Yankee to a clump of canes 
luxuriant with tender twig-s and leaves, sweetened by 
the cool dew of the season, Telitha and I entered upon 
the work of cutting- twig-s and pulling- fodder. 

There being- no drainag-e in those times, I often 
stepped upon little hillocks, covered with g-rass or 
aquatic veg-etation, that yielded to my weig-ht, and I 
sunk into the mud and water ankle deep, at least, and 
Telitha was g"oing- throug-h with similar experiences. 
I often laug-hed at her g-rimaces and other expressions 
of disg-ust in the sloug-h of despond, and rejoiced with 
her when she displa^^ed the trophies of success, consist- 



DURING THE WAB. 227 

itig- of nice brittle twigs, g-enerousl}^ clad in tender 
leaves and full growth ; Yankee, too, was unmindful 
of small difficulties, and did his " level " best in pro- 
viding- for a rainy day by filling- his capacious paunch 
brimf'ul of the g-ood thing-s so bountifully supplied by 
Providence in the marshes of old DeKalb. By the 
time the aforesaid half dozen sacks were filled, the en- 
larg:ement of that org-an of his anatomy suggested 
that he proposed carrying home about as much inside 
of him as might be imposed upon his back— of this 
sagacity he seemed conscious and very proud, and 
when the sacks of cane were put over his back, pan- 
nier fashion, he pursued the path homeward with 
prouder air and nobler mien than that which marked 
his course to the cane-brake. 

When we three were fully equipped for starting 
back to the deserted village, Yankee, as already de- 
scribed, and I with a sack of cane thrown over my 
right shoulder, and reaching nearly to my heels, and 
Telitha, in apparel and equipment an exact duplicate 
of myself, I was so overcome by the ludicrous features 
of the scene that for the time I lost sight of the pa- 
thetic and yielded to inordinate laughter. As mem- 
ory, electrical and veracious, recapitulated the facts 
and circumstances leading to this state of affairs, 
I realized that there was but one alternative— to 
laugh or to cry— but the revolutionary blood cours- 
ing through my veins decided in favor of the former, 
and I laughed until I could no longer stand erect, 
even though braced by an inflexible bag of cane, and 
I ignominiously toppled over. As I lay upon the 
ground I laughed, not merrily, but grimly, as I fancy 



228 LIFE IN DIXIE 

a hj^etia would laug-h. The mor^ I soug-ht the sym- 
pathy of Telitha in this hilarious ebullition, the more 
uncontrollable it became. Her utter want of apprecia- 
tion of the fun, and a vag-ue idea that she was in 
some way implicated, embarrassed her, and, judg-ing- 
from her facial expression, ever varying* and often 
pathetic, wounded her also. In vain did I point to 
our docile equine, whose tethering- line she held. His 
enlarg-ed proportions and g-rotesque accoutrements 
failed to touch a sing-le risible chord, or convey to her 
utilitarian mind aug^ht that was amusing*, and she 
doubtless wondered what could have so affected me. 

In due time we reached Decatur. After passing- 
the Hoyle place, the residence being- then deserted, 
Telitha indicated by sig-ns too intellig-ible to be mis- 
understood that she would g-o home with her sack of 
stock provender, leadings the horse, and then come 
back for mine, and I could g-o by a different route and 
not be known as a participant in the raid upon the 
cane-brake ; but I was too proud of my fidelity to the 
Southern Confederacy to conceal any evidences of it 
that the necessities of the times called into action, and 
I walked throug-h the stricken villag-e with my sack of 
cane in my arms instead of upon my back ; and would 
have walked as proudl}^ to the sacrificial altar, myself 
the offering-, if by so doing- I could have retrieved the 
fortunes of my people and established for them a 
g-overnment among- the nations of earth. 

The lowing- of our cow reached me as I entered the 
court-house square, and I hastened my g-ait and soon 
displayed before her, in her stall in the cellar, a 
tempting repast. And my mother, who possessed the 



DURING THE WAB. 229 

faculty of making- something- g-ood out of that which 
was ordinary, displayed one equally tempting- to me 
and Telitha^milk and mush, supplemented by coffee 
made of parched okra seed. 

"Tired nature's sweet restorer" faithfully per- 
formed its recuperative service that nig-ht. When I 
opened my eyes upon the g-lorious lig-ht of another 
day, I was so free from the usual attendants upon 
f atig-ue that I involuntarily felt for my body — it seemed 
to have passed away during- the nig-ht, and left no 
trace of former existence. I found it, thoug-h, per- 
fectly intact, and ready to obey the behests of my will 
and serve me throug-h the requirements of another 
day. And my mother seemed to be in her usual health 
and willing- for me to do anything I thoug-ht I oug-ht 
to do. She could not close her eyes to the fact that 
our store of supplies was nearly exhausted, and that 
there was only one way to replenish it ; and she had 
the wisdom and the Christian g-race to acquiesce to 
the inevitable without a discourag-ing- word. Telitha, 
upon whose benig-hted mind the ridiculous phases of 
the previous day's adventures had dawned sometime 
in the interim, laug-hed as soon as she saw me, and in 
well-acted pantomime made me fully aware that she 
enjoyed at this late hour the ludicrous scene that had 
so amused me. And Yankee evidently smiled when 
he saw me, and g-reeted me with a joyous little whicker 
that spoke volumes. 

A g-ood breakfast for women and beast having- 
been disposed of, I wended my way in quest of 
Uncle Mack. He alone understood the complicated 



230 LIFE IN DIXIE 

process of harnessing- Yankee in ropes to the prim- 
itive vehicle manufactured by his own ingenious 
hands, and to him I always went when this important 
task had to be performed. On this occasion, as upon 
others, it was soon executed. When all was ready 
and the unbidden tears dashed away, as if out of 
place, I seized the ropes and started ? Where ? Ah, 
that was the question. There was only one place 
that oifered hope of remuneration for the perilous un- 
dertaking-, and forty miles had to be traversed before 
reaching it. Forty miles through a devastated coun- 
try. Forty miles amid untold dangers. But in all 
the walks of life it has been demonstrated that pluck 
and energ-y, and a firm reliance upon Providence, are 
necessary to surmount difficulties, and of all these 
essentials I had a goodly share, and never doubted 
but that I would be taken care of, and my wants and 
those of others supplied. " God helps those who help 
themselves," is an adage which deserves to be em- 
blazoned upon every tree, and imprinted upon every 
heart. That vain presumption that folds the hands, 
and prays for benefits and objects desired, without 
putting forth any effort to obtain them, ought to be 
rebuked by all g-ood men and women as a machination 
of Satan. 

These and similar reflections nerved me for the 
task before me, and I started in earnest. When I g-ot 
to the " blacksmith shop," I looked back and saw my 
mother standing just where I left her, following me 
with her eyes. I looked back no more lest I dissolve 
in tears. As I passed the few abodes that were ten- 
anted, my mission "out" was apprehended, and I 



nUBING THE WAE. 231 

was besought in tearful tones to bring- back with me 
all I could, by those who told me that they and their 
children were upon the verge of starvation. I took 
all the sacks which were handed to me and rolled 
them tog-ether, and by the aid of a string- secured 
them to the cart, and amidst blessing-s and g-ood 
wishes pursued my devious way ; for, be it remem- 
bered, many obstructions, such as breast-works and 
thorny hedg-e-wood, presented formidable barriers to 
rapid travel for a considerable distance from Decatur. 
While leisurely walking- beside Yankee, I was 
struck with the agility of his motion and his improved 
figure since we traveled over these grounds a few 
weeks before. He had taken on a degree of symmetry 
that I never supposed attainable by the poor, emaci- 
ated animal which I captured in the cane-brake. His 
hair had become soft and silky, and in the sunlight 
displayed artistic shades of coloring from light to 
deepest brown ; and his long, black tail, which hung 
limp and perpendicular, now affected a curve which 
even Hogarth might have admired, and his luxuriant 
and glossy mane waved prettily as a maiden's tresses. 
And his face, perfect in everylineament, and devoid of 
any indication of acerbit}^, lighted by large, liquid, 
brown eyes, would have been a fit model — a thing of 
beauty — for the pencil of Rosa Bonheur. Rubbing 
my hand over his silky coat and enlarged muscles, I 
decided to enjoy the benefit of his increased strength 
and gently ordered a halt. Stepping from the ground 
to the hub of the wheel, another step landed me into 
the cart, vehicle, wagon or landau, which ever you see 



233 LIF:E in DIXIE 

proper to denominate it ; I do not propose to confine 
myself to any one of these terms. 

Yankee understood the movement, and doubtless 
felt complimented. As soon as I took my seat in the 
chair — a concomitant part of the equipag-e — he started 
off at a brisk g-ait, which, without a word of command, 
he kept up until we came to the base of a long- hill, 
and then he slackened his speed and leisurely walked 
to the summit. I enjo3^ed g^oing- over g-round without 
muscular effort of my own, and determined to remain 
in the cart until he showed some sign of fatig-ue. I 
had only to hold the ropes and speak an encourag*ing- 
word, and we traveled on right merrily. Ah, no! 
That was a misnomer. Callous indeed would have 
been the heart who could have g^one merrilj^ over that 
devastated and impoverished land. Sherman, with 
his destructive host, had been there, and nothing- re- 
mained within the conquered boundary upon which 
"Sheridan's Crow" could have subsisted. Nothing- 
was left but standing- chimneys, and an occasional 
house, to which one would have supposed a battering- 
ram had been applied. I looked up and down, and in 
ever}^ direction, and saw nothing- but destruction, and 
the g-aunt and malig-nant fig-ure of General Starvation 
striding- over our beautiful countr}^, as if he possessed 
it. I shook my head defiantly at him and went on, 
musing- upon these thing's. I never questioned the 
wisdom or goodness of God in permitting them, but I 
pondered upon them, and have never yet reached their 
unfathomable depths. 

At the end of the first day's journey, I found my- 
self twenty miles, or more, froir; the starting point, 



DURING THE WAR. 233 

and tenderly cared for by a good family, consisting-, in 
these war times, only of a mother and several precious 
little children, who were too glad to have company to 
consider my appeal for a night's entertainment in- 
trusive. This desolate mother and children thought 
they had seen all the horror of warfare illustrated\y 
the premeditated cruelty of the Yankee raiders, and 
could not conceive how it could have been worse. 
But when I got through with my recital of injuries, 
they were willing that theirs should remain untold.' 
A delicious supper, like manna from Heaven, was en- 
joyed with a zest unknown to those who have never 
been hungry. 

The light of another day found us all up in that 
hospitable household, and an appetizing breakfast 
fortified me for another day's labor in any field in 
which I might be called to perform it. The little boys, 
who had taken Yankee out of the rope harness the 
evening before, remembered its intricacies and had no 
difficulty in getting him back into that complicated 
gear. When all was ready, and grateful good-byes 
had been uttered, I again mounted "the hub," and 
got into the vehicle. After I had taken my seat, the 
good lady handed me a package, which proved to be a 
nice lunch for my dinner. She also had a sack of 
potatoes and pumpkins stored away in the landau; 
and being a merciful woman, she thought of the 
horse, and gave some home-cured hay for his noon- 
day meal. 

All day I followed in the track of Sherman's min- 
ions, and found the destruction greater than when I 
had passed in this direction before. Coming to a hill, 

16 



234 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the long- ascent of which would be fatig-uing- to Yan- 
kee, I ordered a halt and g*ot out of the wag-on. 
Taking- position by his side, we climbed the hill to- 
g-ether, and then we went down it tog-ether, and con- 
tinued to journey side by side, I oblivious to every- 
thing- but the destruction, either complete or partial, 
on ever}^ side. At leng-th we came to a lovely wee bit 
stream of water, exulting* in its consciousness that no 
enem}' could arrest it in its course to the sea, or mar 
its beauty as it rippled onward. We halted, and I 
loosened the ropes so that Yankee mig-ht partake of 
the flowing- water before eating- his noonday meal. 
And I am sure epicure never enjo3'ed luncheon at Del- 
monico's with more zest than I did the frug-al meal 
prepared for me by the friendly hands of that dear 
Confederate woman. Much as I enjoyed it, I finished 
my dinner sometime before Yankee did his, and em- 
ployed the interim in laving- my hands and face in the 
pure water, and contemplating- myself in the perfect 
mirror formed by its surface. Not as Narcissus did I 
enjoy this pastime, but as one startled by the revela- 
tion. Traces of care, sorrow, apprehension for the 
future, were indelibly imprinted upon forehead and 
cheek, and most of all upon that most tell-tale of all 
features, the mouth. I wept at the chang-e, and by 
way of diversion turned from the unsatisfactory con- 
templation of myself to that of Yankee. This horse, 
instinct with intellig-ence, appreciated every act of 
kindness, and often expressed his g-ratitude in ways so 
human-like as to startle and almost affrig-ht me. I am 
sure I have seen his face lig-hted by a smile, and 
radiant with g-ratitude. And no human being- ever 



DURING THE WAB. 235 

expressed more forcibly by word or act his sorrow at 
being- unable to do all that was desired of him in 
emerg-ency, than did this dumb brute when he g-ave 
me that long, earnest, pathetic look (mentioned in a 
former sketch ) when, from sheer exhaustion, he lay 
down near the heap of ashes where once stood the 
beautiful residence of my friend of honored memory. 
Rev. Henry Clark. 

The more I contrasted the treatment which I, in 
common with my country women and my country, had 
received at the hands of the Yankees ( the then expo- 
nents of the sentiment of the United States towards 
the Southern people), and the gentle, friendly de- 
meanor of the animal upon whom I had unthoughtedly 
bestowed a name constantly suggestive of an enemy, 
the more dissatisfied I became with it, and I deter- 
mined then and there to change it. Suiting the ac- 
tion to the decision, I gathered the ropes and led the 
noble steed to the brink of that beautiful little brook- 
let, and paused for a name. What should it be ? 
"Democrat?" I believed him to be a democrat, true 
and tried, and yet I did not much like the name. Had 
not the Northern democrats allowed themselves to be 
allured into abolition ranks, and made to do the fight- 
ing, while the abolitionists, under another name, 
devastated the country and enriched themselves by 
the booty. " Copperhead ?" I did not like that much. 
It had a metallic ring that grated harshly upon my 
nerves, and I was not then aware of their great service 
to the South in restraining and keeping subordinate to 
humanity, as far as in them I-y^ the hatred and evil 
passions of the abolitionists. ' ' Johnny P.^b ?" Ah, 



236 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
I had touched the ke3'note at last, and it awakened a 

responsive chord that vibrated throug-hout m}^ very 
being-. I had a secret belief, more than once ex- 
pressed in words, that mj noble equine was a captured 
rebel "held in durance vile" until bereft of health 
and streng-th, then abandoned to die upon the com- 
mons. "Johnny Reb !" I no long-er hesitated. The 
name was electrical, and the chord with which 
it came in contact was charg^ed to its utmost capacity. 
With the placid waters of that ever-flowing- stream, 
in the name of the Southern Confederac}^ I christened 
one of the best friends I ever had "Johnny Reb," a 
name ever dear to me. 

This ceremony having- been performed to my satis- 
faction and to his, too — ^jud^ing- b}^ the complacent 
g-lances, and, as I fancied, by the sug-g-estion of an 
approving- smile which he bestowed upon me — I 
mounted the hub, stepped into the cart, seated m}- 
self, and with ropes in hand continued my way to " The 
Circle," and arrived there before night. Not being- 
tired, I immediatel}' struck out among* the vendors 
of home-made products — edibles, wearing- apparel, 
etc. — for the purpose of purchasing- a wag-on load to 
carry to Decatur, not for the ig-noble purpose of 
speculation, but to bestow, without money and with- 
out price, upon those who, like m}- mother and my- 
self, preferred hung-er and privation rather than g-ive 
up our last earthly home to the destroying- fiend that 
stalked over our land and protected Federal bayonets. 

Before the shades of nig-ht c?.me on I had accom- 
plished my object As a matter of history I will 



BUBING THE WAE. 237 

enumerate some of the articles purchased, and annex 
the prices paid for them in Confederate money : 

One bushel of meal $10 00 

Four bushels of corn 40 00 

Fifteen pounds of flour 7 50 

Four pounds dried apples 5 00 

One and half pounds of butter 6 00 

A bushel of sweet potatoes 6 00 

Three gallons of syrup 15 00 

Shoeing- the horse 25 00 

For spending- the nig-ht at Mrs. Born's, self 

and horse 10 00 

Not knowing- the capabilities of "Johnny Reb," I 
feared to add one hundred and thirty-six pounds 
avoirdupois w^eig-ht to a cart already loaded to 
repletion, and the next morning- on starting- took my 
old familiar place by his side. To my slig-htest touch 
or word of encourag-ement, he g-ave me an appreciative 
look and obeyed to the letter my wishes with reg-ard 
to his g-aits — slow or fast in adaptation to mine. In 
due time we ag-ain rested on the banks of the beauti- 
ful little stream hallowed by the memory of repudia- 
ting- a name, rendered by the vandalism of its leg-iti- 
mate owners too obnoxious to be borne by a noble 
horse, and by the bestowing- upon him of another 
more in keeping- with his respect for ladies and other 
fine traits of character which he possessed. Neither 
he nor I had lunch with which to regale ourselves ; 
and whilst he moved about at will cropping little 
tufts of wild growth' and tender leaves, which in- 
stinct taught him were good for his species, I aban- 
doned myself to my favorite pursuit — the contempla- 



238 LIFE IN DIXIE 

tion of nature. Like Aurora Leig-li, I " found books 
among- the hills and vales, and running- brooks," and 
heid communion with their varied forms and invisi- 
ble influences. To me they ever spoke of the incom- 
prehensible wisdom and g-oodness of God. My heart, 
from my earliest recollection, always went out in ad- 
oration to Him who could make alike the g-rand old 
Titans of the forest and the humblest blade of grass ; 
and now I beheld them under circumstances peculiarly 
calculated to evoke admiration. Change had come 
to everything- else. The loft}^ trees stood in silent 
^rnndeur, undisturbed b}' the enem3^'s step or the harsh 
clarion of war^as if defiant of danger — and gave 
shelter and repose to the humblest of God's creatures 
who soug-ht their protecting* arms. Beguiled by the 
loveliness of the woodland scener}', I often found 
myself stopping- to daguerreotype it upon the tablets 
of my memory, and to feast my senses upon the 
aromatic perfume of wildwood autumn flowers. 
"Strong words of counseling" I found in them and in 
"the vocal pines and waters," and out of these books 
I learned the " ignorance of men." 

" And how God laughs in Heaven when any man 
Says, ' Here I'm learned ; this I understand ; 
In that I am never caught at fault, or in doubt. ' -' 

A word of friendly g-reeting- and renewed thanks to 
mine hostess of two nights before, and her dear little 
children, detained me only a very short and unbe- 
g-rudg-ed space of time ; and during- that time I did not 
forget to refer to the potatoes and the pumpkin so 
kindl}^ given to me by them on my down trip, and 



DURING THE WAB. 239 

which I could have left in their care until my return, 
had I thoug-ht of it. 

Nig-ht ag-ain came on, and this time found me pick- 
ing- my way as best I could over the rocks shadowed 
by Stone Mountain. On I plodded throug-h the 
darkness, g-uided rather by the unerring- step of Johnny 
Reb than any knowledg-e I had of the way. At leng-th 
the poor faithful animal and myself were rewarded for 
perseverance by seeing- g-limmering- lig-hts of the moun- 
tain villag-e. We struck a bee line for the nearest one, 
and were soon directed to "a boarding- house." I 
was too glad to g-et into it then, to descant upon its 
demerits now. I assured the landlady that I needed no 
supper myself, and would pay her what she would 
charg-e for both if she would see that the horse was 
well fed. I think she did so. My valuable freig-ht 
could not remain in the cart all nig-ht, and there was 
no one to bring- it in. In vain did she assure me that 
I would find it all rig-ht if I left it there. I g-ot into the 
cart and lifted the sacks and other thing-s out of it my- 
self, and, by the help of the aforesaid person, g-ot 
everything- into the house. I fain would have lain 
down by these treasvres, for they had increased in 
value beyond computation since leaving- Social Cir- 
cle, and would have done so but for repeated assur- 
ance of their safety. 

An early start next morning- g-ave me the privileg-e 
of g-oing- over the ground familiar to my youth in the 
loveliest part of the day, and when the sun looked at 
me over the mountain's crest, I felt as if I was in the 
presence of a veritable king-, and wanted to take m}^ 
bonnet off and make obeisance to him. His beneficent 



240 LIFE IN DIXIE 

rays fell alike upon the just and the unjust, and 
lighted the pathwa}^ of the destroyer as brightly as 
that of the benefactor. Amid destruction, wanton 
and complete, and over which angels might weep, I 
stepped the distance off between Stone Mountain and 
Judge Bryce's ; not a living thing upon the face of the 
earth, or a sound of any kind greeting me — the deso- 
lation of war reigned supreme. I again stopped at 
Judge Bryce's, and implored his protection to Decatur, 
but, as on the former occasion, he was afraid to leave 
his wife to the tender mercy (?) of the enemy. He 
told me he feared I would not reach home with my 
cart of edibles, as "Yankee raiders had been coming 
out from Atlanta every day lately," and that the set 
that was now coming was more vindictive than an}^ 
that had preceded it. Good, dear Mrs. Br3xe, trusting 
in the Lord for future supplies, took a little from her 
scanty store of provisions and added it to mine for her 
friend, my mother. 

With many forebodings of evil, I took up the line 
of march to Decatur. I looked almost with regret upon 
my pretty horse. Had he remained the poor ugly 
animal that was lassoed in the cane-brake, I would 
have had but little fear of losing him, but under my 
fostering care, having become pretty, plump and 
sprightly, I had but little hope of keeping him. Being 
absorbed by these mournful reflections and not having 
the ever-watchful Telitha with me to announce dan- 
ger from afar, I was brought to a full realization of 
its proximity by what appeared to be almost an army 
of hluc-coats^ dashing up on spirited horses, and for 
the purpose of humiliating me, hurrahing "for Jeffer- 



DVBING THE WAB. 241 

son Davis and the Southern Confederac3\" As a flag- 
of truce, I frantically waved my bonnet, which act 
was misapprehended and taken as a signal of approval 
of their "hurrah for Jefferson Davis and the Southern 
Confederacy," which was resounding- without inter- 
mission. 

Seeing- several very quiet, dig-nified looking- g-entle- 
men, who, althoug-h apart from the others, seemed to 
be exercising- a restraining- influence, I approached 
them and told them how I had g-one out from Decatur 
unprotected and all alone to g-et provisions to keep 
starvation from among- our defenseless women and 
children, and that I had to g-o all the way to Social 
Circle before I could g-et anything-, and that I had 
walked back in order to save the horse as much as 
possible. These men, however, althoug-h seeming-ly 
interested, questioned and cross-questioned me until I 
had but little hope of their protection. One of them 
said, "I see you have one of our horses. How did 
you come by him?" And then the story of how I 
came by him was recapitulated without exag-g-eration 
or diminution. This narrative elicited renewed hur- 
rahs for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy. 
A few minutes private conversation between these 
g-entlemen ensued, and all of them approached me, 
and the spokesman said, "Two of us will escort you 
to Decatur, and see that no harm befalls you." It 
seemed, then, that no g-reater boon could have been 
offered under the canopy of Heaven, and I am sure no 
woman could have experienced more g-ratitude or been 
more profuse in its expression. 



242 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The sight of m}^ nervous, gTa3^-haired mother, and 
her prett}^ mother wa^^s, touched another tender chord 
in the hearts of these gentlemen, and if constraint ex- 
isted it was dispelled, and they became genial and 
very like friends before they left. They even promised 
to send us some oats for noble Johnny Reb, who dis- 
played the greatest equanimity all through these try- 
ing scenes. 



DURING THE WAB. 243 



CHAPTER XXII. 

NKWS FROM THK ABSENT BKOTH^R. 

He marches into Tennessee with Hood — Extracts from his 
letters written on the way — Two ears of parched corn — The 
night burial of a soldier. 

After the majorit}' of these sketches were written, 
I was permitted by m}^ sister to take a few extracts 
from the cherished letters of our brother, which she 
numbered and carefully laid away as her most pre- 
cious treasure. To these we are indebted for all 
that we know of his history during- those trying- days 
and weeks of which I have just been writing-. Where 
was he, and how did he fare ? Few and far between 
were the letters now, in these dark days of the war. 
The soldiers themselves had but little opportunity to 
write, and the mail facilities were poor. But I feel 
sure that to the survivors of the "Lost Cause," these 
meag-re scraps concerning- that brave but disastrous 
march into Tennessee will be read with melancholy 
interest: 

" On the Line of Alabama and Georg-ia, 
Near Alpine, Ga., 8 o'clock at nig-ht, Oct. 17, 1874. 
"My Dear Sister— As there is a probability of 
the mail courier leaving- here eary in the morning-, I 
hastil}^ scratch you a few lines that you may know 
that under the blessing-s of a kind Providence I am 3^et 
alive, and, thoug-h somewhat wearied, enjoying- g-ood 
health. Yours of 28th of September has been re- 
ceived, but under circumstances of hard marches, etc.. 



244 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 

there has been but one opportunity of writing- to you 
since leaving- Palmetto, and then had just finished 
one to Texas, and was fixing- to write to you, when the 
order came to 'fall in.' 

"Well, leaving camps near Palmetto on the 29th 
of September, we crossed the Chattahoochee below, 
marched up to Powder Spring-s, threatened Marietta, 
and at the same time threw Stewart's corps around 
above Big- Shanty to cut the railroad, which was torn 
up for about thirteen miles, French's Division attack- 
ing Allatoona, where he sustained some loss, having- 
works to charge. Kctor's Texas Brigade, and some 
Missourians, carried their part of the works, but 

A 's Brigade failed to do their part, hence the 

advantage gained was lost. By this time the enemy 
were concentrating at Marietta, and General Hood's 
object being accomplished, he then marched rapidly 
towards Rome, flanking the place, and making a heavy 
demonstration as if he intended crossing the river and 
attacking the place. The enemy then commenced a 
concentration at Kingston and Rome. We then moved 
around Rome and marched rapidly up the Oostanaula, 
and, on the evening of the 11th inst., sent a division 
of infantry with some cavalry across the river, and 
captured Calhoun with some stores. Moved on the 
next morning by a forced march, flanking Resaca, 
and striking the railroad immediately above, tearing 
it up to Tilton where there were about three hundred 
Yankees in a block-house. A surrender was demanded. 
A reply was returned: 'If you want us come and take 
us.' Our artillery was soon in position and a few 
shots soon made them show the 'white rag-.' We tore 



DUBING THE WAB. 245 

Up the road that nig-ht, and the next morning- by nine 
o'clock, to Tunnel Hill, burning- every cross-tie and 
twisting- the bars. Dalton surrendered without a 
fig-ht, with a full g-arrison of neg-roes and some white 
Yankees. The block-house above, at a bridg-e, refused 
to surrender, and we had to bring- the artillery into 
requisition ag-ain, which made them succumb. They 
all seemed to be taken by surprise and were hard to 
convince that it was a cavalry raid. They evacuated 
Tunnel Hill. Thus after five months of fig-hting- and 
running-, the Army of Tennessee re-occupied Dalton. 
Sherman has been taken by surprise. He never 
dreamed of such a move. General Hood's plans all 
being- carried out, so far as the State road was con- 
cerned, we marched across the mountains to LaFay- 
ette, in the vicinity of which we camped last night, 
and have marched twenty-three miles to-day. To- 
morrow we cross the Lookout Mountain, and will, I 
suppose, make directly for the Tennessee river, thoug-h 
of this I'm not certain. Hood has shown himself a 
g-eneral in strategy, and has secured the confidence of 
the troops. Wherever we go, may God's blessing- 
attend us. Pray for me. In haste. 

Your affectionate brother, 

Tom Stokes. 
"P. S.— Cherokee Co., Ala., Oct. 18, 1864. 
"The courier not leaving- this morning, I have a 
little more time left. We did not travel so far to-day 
as I heard we would, having- come only ten miles, and 
have stopped to rest the balance of the evening. I 
find you dislike to have your communications cut off, 
so I see you are below Madison. Would to Heaven 



246 LIFE JN DIXIE 

• 
that, in one sense of the word my communication 

was cut off forever ; yea, that every channel leading 
me in contact with l/ie zcof/d, in any other character 
than as a minister of 'the meek and lowly Savior,' 
was to me forever blocked up. I am tired of con- 
fusion and disorder — tired of living- a life of contin- 
ual excitement * * *^ You spoke of passing 
through a dark cloud. ' There is nothing true but 
Heaven,' and it is to that rest for the weary, alone, 
to which we are to look for perfect enjoyment. 
We are to walk by faith, and though the clouds 
of trouble thicken, yet we should know that if we 
do our duty we shall see and feel the genial sun- 
shine of a happier time. Yes, my sister, though we 
knew our lives should be lengthened one hundred 
years, and everj^ day should be full of trouble ; yet if 
we have a hope of Heaven, that hope should buoy up 
the soul to be cheerful, even under earth's saddest 
calamities. 

"I think we will cross the Tennessee river and 
make for Tennessee, where it seems to be understood 
that we will have large accessions to our army, both 
there and from Kentucky * * *." 

The next letter is enclosed in an envelope which 
came through no postoffice, as it was furnished by 
m}^ sister, and upon it she wrote : "This letter was 
sent to me on the 27th of November, by some one who 
picked it up upon the street in Madison. The post- 
office had been rifled by the Federals who (under com- 
mand of Slocum) passed through Madison, Novem- 
ber 18th and 19th. Though found without an en- 



DURING THE WAR. 247 

velope, and much stained, it has reached me, because 
sig-ned with his full neime." 

This letter is dated " Near Decatur, Ala., October 
28th, 1864." We g-ive a few items : 

"We invested this place yesterday, and there has 
been some skirmishing- and artillery firing- until an 
hour ag-o, when it seems to have measurably ceased. 
We are in line of battle southwest of Decatur, about 
one and a quarter miles. I went out reconnoitering- 
this morning- and saw the enemy's position. They 
have a larg-e fort immediately in the town, with the 
' stars and stripes ' waving- above. I hear occasional 
distant artillery firing- which I suppose is Forrest, 
near Huntsville. * * * We were several days cross- 
ing- Sand Mountain. Have had delig-htful weather 
until a day or two ago it rained, making- the roads 
very muddy, in consequence of which we have been on 
small rations, the supply trains failing- to g-et up. 
We had only half rations yesterday, and have had 
none to-day (now nearly three o'clock), but will g-et 
some to-night. We try to be cheerful. * * * No letter 
from Texas yet. No one of our company has had any 
intelligence from Johnson county since last May. I 
can't see what's the matter. I have been absent 
nearly one year and have received but one letter." 
(Of course the dear loved ones in Texas wrote to their 
soldier braves on this side the Mississippi river ; but 
such are the misfortunes of war that these missives 
were long delaj^ed in their passage). 

" Saturday, October 29th.— The condition of affairs 
this morning at sunrise remains, so far as I know, 
unchanged. * * * Yesterday evening we drew two 



248 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ears of corn for a day's ration ; so parched corn 
was all we had yesterday ; but we will get plenty 
to-day." 

And now we come to the last of the letters ever 
received. It is probable it was among- the last he 
ever wrote. It is dated "Tuscumbia, Ala., Nov. 10, 
1864. — . . We arrived at this place the 31st 

of October, and have been here since, thoug-h what 
we are waiting- for I can't tell. The pontoons are 
across the river, and one corps on the other side at 
Florence. We have had orders to be ready to move 
several times, but were countermanded. We were to 
have moved to-day, and even our wag-ons started off, 
but for some cause or other we have not g-one. The 
river is rising- very rapidly, which may endang-er the 
pontoons. 

"November 12th. — I thoug-ht to send this off yes- 
terday morning-, but, on account of the rain a few 
days ag-o, the mail carrier was delayed until last nig-ht, 
which broug-ht your dear letter of date October 31st. 
It was handed me on ni}^ return from the graveyard, 
where I had been to perform the funeral ceremony of 
a member of the 6th Texas, who was killed yesterday 
morning- by the fall of a tree. He had been in 
every battle in which this brigade was ever engaged; 
an interesting young man, only nineteen years of 
age. 

"The scene at the graveyard was a solemn one, 
being some time in the night before we arrived. The 
cold, pale moon shone down upon us, and the deep 
stillness which pervaded the whole scene, with the 



DVlilNd THE WAH. 2J9 

roiig-h, uncouth, thoug-h tender-hearted soldiers with 
uncovered heads, forming- a larg-e circle around the 
g-rave, made it, indeed, a scene solemnly impressive. 
The print of m}- Bible being- small, I could not read, 
but recited from memory a few passag-es of Scripture 
suitable to the occasion, the one upon which I dwelt 
chiefly being- a declaration of Paul to the Corinthians, 
' For we must all appear before the judgment seat 
of Christ.' I then spoke of the certainty of that 
chang-e from life to death ; that with the soldier, 
even, death is not confined to the battlefield ; spoke 
of our comrade, who but in the morning- bade as fair 
for long- life as any of us, but within the space of a 
few short hours was lying- in the cold embrace of 
death ; of another of our brig-ade who was instantly 
killed a short time since by a stroke of lig-htning- ; 
closed with an exhortation to all to live nearer to 
God, and be prepared at all times to meet their God in 
peace. Oh, how sad ! Far away from his home to 
be buried in a land of strang-ers. How the hearts of 
his father, mother and sisters must bleed when they 
receive the sad tiding-s. 

"I expect we will leave here for Middle Tennessee 
next Monday, as the river will be falling- by that 
time. There is much talk of this brig-ade being- 
sent home after this campaign. Major Rankin has 
been exchang-ed, and is with us. I g-ave Lieutenant 
Collins' overcoat to his company to take care of for 
him. 

"Am so g-lad to hear from ma and sister. We g-et no 
letters from Texas; but are continually sending- some 
over, as all the disabled of the last campaign are be- 



250 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
ing" retired and sent across. Poor Uncle JamesI His 

Joseph is g"one. . . . Write to me often. 

Affectionately, 

Your Brother." 

Ah, could the history of these brave men be written, 
what a record it would be of endurance, of daring-, of 
heroism, of sacrifice! And the heart-breaking- pathos 
of the last chapters of their experience, ere thefurling- 
of the fiag^ they followed! Pat Cleburne and his fallen 
braves — 

"On fame's eternal camping g-roimd, 

Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory mai'ks with solemn round 

The bivouac of the dead." 



DUIUNO THE WAH. 251 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE WAK. 
Related to the writer by Hon. Roger Q. Mills, of Texas. 

The nig-ht was black as Erebus. Not a scintil- 
lant of lig-lit from moon or star penetrated the dense 
forest, and no e3^e save that of God discerned the dan- 
ger of the situation. Hill and dale, mountain and 
precipice, creek and surg-ing- stream, presented bar- 
riers that none but men inured to hardship, and un- 
known to fear, would have attempted to surmount. 

Obedient to the command of the superior officer, 
the remnant of that mag^nificent and intrepid army, 
once g"uided bj the unerring- wisdom of Joseph E. 
Johnston, plodded their way uncomplaining^ly over 
these tr3nng- difficulties. The Lord must have been 
amazed at their temerit}-, and shook the very earth in 
rebuke, and ever and anon by the lig-htning-'s flash 
revealed g-limpses of the peril to which they were ex- 
posed; and 3'et in unbroken lines they g^roped their 
way, not knowing- whither. At leng-th bewildered, 
and made aware of impending- dang-er, the g-eneral in 
command ordered a halt. The martial tread ceased, 
and all was still as death. In the midst of this still- 
ness a voice, sweet as that of a woman, was heard re- 
peating- that g-rand old h3'mn, which has given com- 
fort to many weary ones treading the wine press : 



252 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

'' How tirm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, 
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word I 
What more can He say than to you He hath said, 
You who unto Jesus for refuge have fled. 

" In every condition, in sickness, in health, 

In poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth. 

At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea, 

As thy days may demand shall thy strength ever be. 

" Fear not, I am with thee, O I be not dismayed, 

I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid ; 

I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand. 

Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand. 

" When through the deep waters I call thee to go. 
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow ; 
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless. 
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 

" When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie. 
My grace all sufficient shall be thy supply ; 
The flame shall not hurt thee ; I only design 
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine. 

" E'en down to old age, all My people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love : 
And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, 
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne. 

" The soul that on .lesus hath leaned for repose, 
I will not, I will not desert to his foes ; 
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, 
I'll never, no never, no never, forsake." 

General Mills said that during- the rendition of this 
beautiful hymn, not even the breaking- of a twig-, or 
the changing of a footstep broke the silence of the 
midnight tranquillity. The rain drops ceased to 



DURING THE WAR. 253 

fall ; the electricity darted harmless^ throug-h the 
tree tops ; and the muttering- of the thunder lulled. 

After a most impressive silence of several minutes, 
the same voice, which had rendered the hymn so 
effectually, repeated from memory an appropriate 
passag-e of Scripture and proceeded to expatiate 
upon it. He had not uttered a dozen words before 
another flash of lig-htning- revealed the upturned 
heads and listening- attitudes of the men composing- 
that weird cong-reg-ation, and each one of them knew 
as if by instinct that he was g'oing- to hear some- 
thing- that would help him on his journey to the 
Land of Beulah. Strong- in the faith, he carried 
many of the truths and promises of the Holy Word 
within his mind, and now, as many times before, he 
opened them by the mag-ic key of memory and unfolded 
to view their unsearchable riches. He beg-ged his fel- 
low-men and comrades in arms to accept them with- 
out money and without price— to accept them that 
they mig-ht wear king-ly robes and royal diadems, and 
be with Jesus in His Father's reg-al mansions throug'h- 
out the grand eternities. And as he told the old, old 
story of divine love, it assumed a contemporaneous 
interest and seemed a living- present reality. Every 
man who heard it felt the living- force and 
energ-izing- influence of the theme. And thus by 
earnest, agg-ressive appeals, he exerted a wonder- 
ful power for good over the minds of his hearers ; 
and those men, even now with phantom hands 
pointing gaunt fingers at them, by their deep inter- 
est testified to the warm suffusing purpose which 
made itself felt in every word that he uttered, as he 



254 LIFE IN DIXIE 

told of the Fatherhood of God and the ever-present 
sympathy- of a benig-nant and infinite parent, who 
delig-hted not in the death of sinners, but rather that 
all should come to Him and have eternal life. Gen- 
eral Mills added that, as the fine resonant voice of 
the speaker penetrated the dense forest and found its 
way to his hearers in distinct enunciation of well- 
chosen words, the deep-toned thunder emphasized the 
impressive points, and made it a scene which for 
g-randeur and sublimity has never been surpassed, 
while the vivid flashes of lighning- revealed again and 
ag-ain the earnest face and solemn mien of my brother. 
Lieutenant Thomas J. Stokes, of the Tenth Texas 
Infantry of Cleburne's Division. 



DVBING THE WAR. 255 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Picking- up minie balls around Atlanta — Exchanging- them for 

bread. 

After ming'ling- renewed vows of alleg"iance to our 
cause, and expressions of a willing- submission to the 
consequences of defeat — privations and evil dire, if 
need be — with my morning- orison ; yet I could not be 
oblivious to the fact that I was hung-ry, very hung-ry. 
And there was another, whose footsteps were becom- 
ing- more and more feeble day by da}^, and whose 
voice, when heard at all, was full of the pathos of 
despair, who needed nourishment that could not be 
obtained, and consolation, which it seemed a mockery 
to offer. 

In vain did I look round for relief. There was 
nothing left in the countrj^ to eat. Yea, a crow flying 
over it would have failed to discover a morsel with 
which to appease its hung-er; for a Sheridan by an- 
other name had been there with his minions of 
destruction, and had ruthlessly destroyed every vestig-e 
of food and every means of support. Every larder was 
empty, and those with thousands and tens of thous- 
ands of dollars, were as poor as the poorest, and as 
hungry too. Packing- trunks, in every house to which 
refugees had returned, contained larg-e amounts of 
Confederate money. We had invested all we pos- 
sessed except our home, and land and neg-roes, in Con- 
federate bonds, and these were now inefficient for pur- 



256 LIFE IN DIXIE 

chasing- purposes. Gold and silver had we none. A 
more favored few had a little of those desirable me- 
diums of purchase, and sent a great distance for sup- 
plies ; but they offered no relief to those who had 
stayed at home and borne the brunt of battle, and 
saved their property from the destroyers' torch. 

What was I to do ? Sit down and wait for the in- 
evitable starvation ? No ; I was not made of such 
stuff. I had heard that there had been a provision 
store opened in Atlanta for the purpose of bartering- 
provisions for munitions of war — anything- that could 
be utilized in warfare. Minie balls were particu- 
larly desirable. I therefore took Telitha by the apron, 
and had a little talk with her, and when I was 
throug-h she understood that something- was up that 
would bring- relief to certain org-ans that had become 
quite troublesome in their demands, and she was 
anxious to take part in the performance, whatever 
that mig-ht be. I went also to my mother, and im- 
parted to her my plans of operation, and she took 
that pathetic little backward step peculiar to herself 
on occasions which tried her soul, and with quivering- 
lip she assented in approving-, thoug-h almost inaudi- 
ble words. 

With a basket in either hand, and accompanied by 
Telitha, who carried one that would hold about a 
peck, and two old dull case-knives, I started to the 
battle-fields around Atlanta to pick up the former 
missiles of death to exchang-e for food to keep us from 
starving-. 

It was a cold day. The wind was very sharp, 
and over the ground, denuded of forest trees and 



nURlNG THE WAR. 257 

undergrowth, the wind was blowing- a miniature 
g-ale. Our wraps were inadequate, and how 
chilled we became in that rude November blast! 
Mark j^ou, it was the 30th of November, 1864. But 
the colder we were, the faster we walked, and in an 
incredibly short time we were upon the battle-field 
searching- for lead. 

I made it a point to keep verj^ near the road in the 
direction of Atlanta, and soon found myself on the 
very spot where the Confederate mag-azine stood, the 
blowing up of which, by Confederate orders, shook 
the very earth, and was distinctly heard thirty-five 
or forty miles distant. An exclamation of g-lad sur- 
prise from Telitha carried me to her. She had found 
a bonanza, and was rapidly filling- her basket with 
that which was more valuable to us than g-old. In a 
marshy place, encrusted with ice, innumerable bullets, 
minie balls, and pieces of lead seemed to have been 
left by the irony of fate to supply sustenance to hun- 
g-ry ones, and employment to the poor, as all the win- 
ter those without money to send to more favored and 
distant points found sure returns from this lead mine. 
It was so cold ! our feet were almost frozen, and our 
hands had commenced to bleed, and handling- cold, 
rough lead cramped them so badly that I feared we 
would have to desist from our work before filling the 
baskets. 

Lead ! Blood ! Tears ! O how suggestive ! Lead, 
blood and tears, mingled and commingled. In vain did 
I try to dash the tears away. They would assert them- 
selves and fall upon lead stained with blood. "God of 
mercy, if this be Thy holy will, give me fortitude to 



258 LIFJ^ IN DIXIE 

• 
bear it uncomplaining-ly," was the heart-felt invoca- 
tion that went up to the throne of g-race from over 
lead, blood and tears, that fearful day. For relief, 
tears did not suffice. I wanted to cry aloud ; nature 
would not be satisfied with less, and I cried like a baby, 
long- and loud. Telitha caug-ht the spirit of grief, 
and cried too. This ebullition of feelings on her part 
broug-ht me to a realization of my duty to her, as 
well as to my poor patient mother to whom the day 
must seem very long-, and I tried to stifle my sobs and 
lamentations. I wondered if she had the forebod- 
ing-s of coming bereavement that were lacerating my 
own heart. I did not doubt but that she had, and I 
cried in sympathy for her. 

At length our baskets were filled, and we took up 
our line of march to the desolated city. There 
were' no labyrinths to tread, no streets to follow, 
and an occasional question secured information 
that enabled us to find the " commissar}-" without 
delay. Telitha was very ambitious that I should 
appear a lady, and wanted me to deposit my 
load of lead behind some place of concealment, while 
we went on to deliver hers, and then let her g-o back 
for mine. But I was too much a Confederate soldier 
for that, and walked bravely in with my heavy, 
precious load. 

A courteous gentleman in a faded grey uniform, 
evidently discharged because of wounds received in 
battle, approached and asked what he could do for 
me. "I have heard that you g-ive provisions for 
lead," I replied, "and I have brought some to ex- 
change." What seemed an interminable silence en- 



DURING THE WAlt 359 

sued, and I felt without seeing- that I was undergoing- 
a sympathetic scrutiny, and that I was recognized as 
a lady " to the manor born." 

"What would you like in exchange," he asked. 
' 'If you have sugar, and coffee, and meal , a little of each 
if you please," I timidly said. "I left nothing to eat 
at home." The baskets of lead were removed to the 
rear and weighed, and in due time returned to me 
filled to the brim with sugar, coffee, flour, meal, lard, 
and the nicest meat I had seen in a long time. 

"O, sir, "I said, " I did not expect so much." 

" You have not yet received what is due you," this 
good man replied, and handed me a certificate which 
he assured me would secure as much more on pre- 
sentation. 

Joy had gone out of my life, and I felt no thrill of 
that kind ; but I can never describe the satisfaction 
I experienced as I lifted two of those baskets, and 
saw Telitha grasp the other one, and turned my face 
homeward. 



LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXV. 

The Decatur women's struggle for bread — Sweet singing in 
hard places — Pleasant visitors — I make a trip to Alabama — 
The news of my brother's death. 

The tug- of war was upon us from the mountains 
to the sea-board, and ing-enious was the woman who 
devised means to keep the wolf, hung^ry and ravenous, 
from the door. The depreciation of our currency, and 
its constant diminution in value, had rendered it an 
unreliable purchasing- commodit}^ and we had noth- 
ing* to g-ive in exchang-e for food. I, therefore, felt 
that I had literally rubbed ag-ainst Aladdin's lamp 
when I saw much needed food, good and palatable, 
g-iven in exchang-e for minie balls, and for any kind 
of metal convertible into destructive missiles, and I 
was anxious that others should share the benefit 
accruing- from the lead mines mentioned in a former 
sketch. In pursuance of this humane desire, I pro- 
claimed its discovery and results from house to house; 
for, mark 3^ou, we had no "Daily Courier," nor mes- 
seng-er boy to convey the g-lad tiding-s to the half- 
famished women and children in and around Decatur. 
And if my words could have been chang-ed into dia- 
monds by the magic wand of a fairy, not one of those 
starving- people would have accepted the chang-e of 
diamonds for bread. 

It required only a short time to raise a larg-e com- 
pany of women, g-irls and little boys, who were ready 



DURING THE WAR. 261 

to do service for themselves and their country b}- dig-- 
ging- lead with case-knives from mines providentially 
furnished them. And was it not serving- the cause of 
the Confederacy ? I thought so ; and never walked 
with more independent step than when acting as gen- 
eralissimo of that band of devoted, patriotic women, 
eii route to the "lead mines" around Atlanta. Telitha, 
too, evidently felt that she was an important adjunct 
in the mining enterprise, and a conspicuous personage 
in the scenes being enacted, and emphasized her 
opinion by strong and suggestive gesticulation. On 
this occasion she pla3^full3^ wrenched from m^^ hand 
the small vessel with which I had supplied m3'Self 
and which I carried on the former trip, and substituted 
a larger one, while for herself she got at least a half- 
bushel measure. 

All who remember the month of December, 1864, 
know that it abounded in clouds and rain and sleet, 
and was intensely cold in the Confederate States of 
America; and in the latitude embracing Atlanta, such 
severit}^ of weather had never been known to the 
oldest inhabitant. But what mattered it? Each one 
in that little band of women was connected b}^ a bright 
link to the illustrious armies that were enduring 
greater privation and hardship than those to which 
she was exposed, and counted it a willing oblation 
upon his country's altar, and why should she not prove 
faithful to the end, and suffer the pangs of hunger 
and privation too ? 

The work of picking up minie balls began as soon 
as we reached the battle-field, and, consequently, we 
carried several pounds some distance unnecessarily. 



262 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The "mine" proper, I doubt not, could have filled 
several v^ag-ons. As " a little fun now and then is 
relished bj the wisest men," I found a grim smile as- 
serting" itself at the quaint and read}- wit of those es- 
timable g"irls, the Misses Morton, whose Christian 
names I have forgotten and who, alas ! have long 
since joined the silent majority. One of them as- 
sumed the character of a Confederate soldier and the 
other that of a Federal, and the conversation carried 
on between them, as they "exchanged. coffee and to- 
bacco," was rich, rare and racy. The exchange having 
been effected, the signal of combat was given. "Look 
out, Billy Yank !" "Look out, Johnnie Reb !" were 
simultaneous warnings from opposing forces, and 
minie balls whizzed through the air, much to the mer- 
riment of the little boys who wished themselves men, 
that they might be with their fathers, whizzing minie 
balls from musket mouths. 

The sham battle over, the work of digging lead 
was resumed, and in an amazingly short time our 
vessels were filled to overflowing. I watched Telitha 
with interest. She was eager to fill her basket, and 
more than once she said, "Me full !" and added a lit- 
tle gutteral laugh that alwa3's indicated pleasure. 
Her attempt to raise the basket from the ground, 
and her utter failure to do so surprised her amazingl}^ 
and her disappointment was pathetic. With great 
reluctance she saw her treasure reduced to her ca- 
pacit}^ of handling. Each member of the party expe- 
rienced similar disappointment on attempting to raise 
her burden, and we left more exhumed lead and other 
valuables than we carried away. 



DURING THE WAR. 263 

We took up our line of march, and as there were no 
obstructions in the way (for, be it remembered, Sher- 
man had been there, and with torch and explosive re- 
moved all obstructions save the standing: chimneys 
and carcasses of horses and cattle shot by his order to 
prevent the possibility of use to the rebels), we struck 
a bee-line to the commissary. As the first to take ad- 
vantage of this industry, I took the lead, and the 
vig-or of 3'Oung- womanhood, and " a heart for every 
fate," g-ave elasticity to my steps, and I soon outdis- 
tanced even the g-irls. In due time we reached the 
commissary, and in a short while a most satisfactory 
exchang-e was made, thanks to one whose g-reat heart 
beat in unison with ours, and in lieu of the heavy 
burden which we laid down, we picked Up food for the 
nourishment of our tired bodies and those of our 
loved ones at home. Oh, how light, comparatively, 
it seemed ! I verily believe if it had weig-hed the same 
number of pounds, it would have seemed lig-hter, and 
the chang-e would have seemed restful. "Good-bye, 
noble ladies and sisters in a righteous cause," was the 
parting salutation of our no less noble benefactor. 

With our respective packages of food we again 
turned our faces homeward, solemn as a funeral 
march, for, strive against them as we would, we all 
had forebodings of ill, and the swaying of our bodies 
and our footsteps kept time with the pulsations^ of 
our sad hearts. I fancied as I approached standing 
chimneys and other evidences of destroyed homes, 
that the spirit of Sherman, in the guise of an evil 
spirit, was laughing over the destruction his diabolism 
had wrought. In the midst of these reflections a 



264 LIFE IN DIXIE 

song-, which for sweetness and tranquilizing- melody 
I have seldom heard equalled and never, surpassed, 
broke the stillness of the scene and added to the mel- 
ancholy interest of the occasion. ^ It was the well 
known ballad, then familiar to every -child in the Con- 
federacy, "When this Cruel War is Over," and sung- 
by those g-ifted sisters mentioned as a part of the 
lead dig-ging- company. The pure, sweet soprano 
voice of one of the girls put to flig-ht the spirit of 
Sherman, and when it was joined by the flute-like 
alto of the others, every evil spirit within and without 
was exorcised, , and the spirit of submission took its 
place. And 3-et as the words rang- out and found an 
echo in m}- own heart, I had to walk very straight, 
and turn my head neither to the right nor to the left, 
lest I betra^^ the copious tears trickling- down my 
cheeks. At length pent-up feeling-s burst the fetters, 
and an audible sob removed restraint, and we cried as 
women burdened with great sorrow. Precious tears! 
Nature's kind alleviator in time of trouble. 

"The day was cold and dark and dreary, 

And it rained and the winds were never weary," 

and yet I was nerved for its duties and toil by the 
consciousness of having met, uncomplainingly, the 
work which the preservation of my own principles 
made me willing to endure. Several days subse- 
quent to this trip to Atlanta, the Morton girls came 
running in and told me that we had some delightful 
friends at the "vSwanton place," who requested to see 
us. My mother was too much exhausted by anxiety 
and waiting for that which never came, tq go, but 



DURING THE WAB. 265 

approved my doing- so. I, therefore, donned my sun- 
bonnet and went ; and whom should I meet but Mrs. 
Trenholm and her sweet young- daug-hters, Kssie and 
Lila ? I was delig-hted to see them, and invited them 
to g-o home with me. Ma received them in a spirit of 
cordial hospitality, and they were invited to remain 
at her house. Without hesitation, Mrs. Trenholm 
accepted the proffered kindness, and returned to her 
wayside rendezvous only to send her trunks, bedding- 
and other household 'g-oods. And truly the coming- 
of that saintly woman and those lovely g-irls was a 
rare benediction, especially at that time. Day by day 
ma looked in vain for tiding-s from "the front" — 
wherever that mig-ht be — and day by day her health 
and streng-th was perceptibl}^ weakened by disap- 
pointment. Mrs. Trenholm's sympathy with her in 
her suspense reg-arding- the operations of Hood's 
army, and the fate of her beloved son, was both 
touching- and consoling-. Seeing- that my mother and 
myself were hoping- almost ag-ainst hope, she endeav- 
ored to bring- us to a realization of that fact, and a 
complete submission to the will of God, even thoug-h 
that will deprived us of our loved one. All of her 
Christian arg-uments and consolations had been pon- 
dered over and over by mother and daughter, but 
they never seemed so sweet and potent as when com- 
ing- in the chaste and simple languag-e of a precious 
saintly woman. 

With the tact peculiar to the refined of ever}^ 
clime and locality, Mrs. Trenholm assumed manag-e- 
ment of the culinary department, and her dinner- 
pot hung- upon our crane several weeks, and 

18 



266 LIFE IN DIXIE 

daih^ sent forth appetizing- odors of bacon and peas. 
How we enjoj^ed those peas and that bacon, and the 
soup seasoned with the onl}^ condiments at our com- 
mand — salt and red pepper — and the good hoe cakes ! 
Mrs. Trenholm had a large sack of cow peas, and 
a sack of dried fruit, and other articles of food 
which she had provided for herself and her family 
before she left Southwest Georgia en 7'oute to her 
home in Marietta, which she left in obedience to the 
order of William Tecumseh Sherman, and which she 
learned, before reaching Decatur, had shared the fate 
of nearly all other homes which had to be thus aban- 
doned. Although magnanimously proffered, we were 
averse to sharing Mrs. Trenholm's well-prepared and 
ofttimes tempting cuisine, unless our proportion of 
food equaled hers ; and fearing even the appearance 
of scanty supplies, I set about to gather up "the 
miners," so that we might appoint a day to again go 
lead digging, if that which we left in as man}- little 
heaps as there were members of the company had 
been, in the interim, gathered up by others. 

On former occasions I had led my company to vic- 
tory over that malignant general left by Sherman to 
complete his work, and styled b}^ him "General Star- 
vation," and they were willing to go wherever I led. 
Now, I had two recruits of whom I was very proud. 
Telitha, too, had gathered from observation that the 
sweet young Trenholm girls were going with us, and 
she set about to provide very small baskets for their 
use, which, with gestures amusing and appropriate, 
she made us understand were large enough to contain 
all the lead that girls so pretty and so ladylike ought 



nUBlNG THE WAR. 267 

to carry. To their credit, however, they repudiated 
that idea, and carried larg-er vessels. By appoint- 
ment the "lead dig"g"ers " were to meet at the tan- 
yard, those arriving- first to wait until the entire 
number came. "Man proposes and God disposes." 
Just as my last g-lov^e was drawn on, Telitha, ever on 
the alert, said "Morton, Morton," and I looked and 
saw the girls coming-. "We needn't g-o — the commis- 
sary has folded its tents, and silently stolen away," 
was the voluntary announcement. Imagine my con- 
sternation and disappointment — the last hope of 
supply cut off ! Ma saw the effect upon me, and said 
in a more hopeful voice than was her wont, "The 
Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." And 
good Mrs. Trenholm said her sack of peas was like 
the cruse of oil that never seemed to diminish in 
quantity, however much was taken out of it. An 
examination, too, of Our own resources was quite 
gratifjnng; but I knew I ought to be "providing for 
a rainy day." 

I pass now over an interval which brings me to the 
latter part of January, 1865. My sister returned 
home from Madison and spent several weeks with 
us, but had accepted an offer to teach at Grantville, 
on the LaGrange and West Point Railroad.- I had a 
precious aunt, my mother's sister, Mrs. Annie Wat- 
son, whom I loved dearly, and of whom I had not 
heard a word since the interruption of the mail com- 
munication by the siege of Atlanta, and my mother's 
frequent mention of her determined me to go and see 
if this beloved aunt was living, and, if so, in what 
condition. I knew she was one of the favored ones 



268 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 

of earth, viewed from a worldl}^ standpoint, but I 
knew not what changes had come over her or her 
worldly possessions. Rumor conveyed startling- ac- 
counts of the atrocious deeds of Wilson's raiders, and 
I knew that they were operating in that rich cotton 
belt of Alabama which embraced my aunt's planta- 
tion and beautiful home. I could scarcely hope that 
that home and its valuable appointments had escaped 
the cupidity of an organized band of robbers protected 
by the United States Government. 

When I think of m^^ mother's fond affection for her 
children, and her tender solicitude for their welfare, I 
am constrained to think that she thought I was en- 
dowed with a sort of charmed existence not subject 
to the perils which beset the pathway of ordinary 
mortals, and hence her ready acquiescence to my 
proposition to undertake a journey of many miles, 
under circumstances of imminent danger, inspired 
with confidence amounting to certainty that I would 
be preserved bj- an All-wise Providence for future use- 
fulness. I had very little preparation to make for the 
contemplated trip. A pretty, small-checked dress, 
which had done service through many a changing 
scene, and was good for as many more, and a 
hat — well, I beg to be excused from describing it — and 
gloves upon which I had expended skill in darning 
until it was difficult to perceive where the darning 
ceased and the glove began, completed my toilet, and 
I bade to all appearance a cheerful good-bye to my 
mother and kind friends, and went by private convey- 
ance to Fairburn. There I took the train for Cowles' 
Stiition, Alabama. 



DURING THE WAR. 269 

Nothing- of particular interest transpired on the 
wa}'. M}^ countr}^ was prostrate and bleeding- from 
nian}^ lacerations, and my tears flowed so freely that 
by the time I reached my railroad destination I had 
a very sick headache. That "there is a providence 
that shapes our ends" was ag-ain illustrated. Some 
of my aunt's neighbors, who knew me at least by 
name, were at the station, and kindly offered to carry 
me to her residence, a distance of ten miles. I found 
my aunt in feeble health, and all alone save her usual 
dusky attendant. Her only child, Mrs. Mary E. Sea- 
man, had g-one to Tuskeeg-ee to see her little daugh- 
ter, who was there going to school in care of a friend 
and relative. Col. Smith Graham. My closest scru- 
tiny failed to detect any change in my aunt's mode 
of living. The same retinue of servants came into 
the house to see and shake hands with mistress' niece, 
and after many questions about "our white folks in 
Georgia," retired from my presence with the same 
courtesy that had marked their demeanor towards me 
in ante-bellum da^^s. 

My aunt manifested her joy at seeing me in manj- 
ways, and wept and smiled alternately, as I related 
m}' adventures with the Yankees. "And my sister, 
what was their treatment of her?" M}' evasive an- 
swer, "It could have been worse," heightened her de- 
sire to learn particulars, and I told them to her. She 
was grateful for all leniency shown by them, and 
affected to tears by unkindness. As the day waned, 
and the middle of the afternoon came on, my aunt 
proposed walking "to meet Mary." I supported her 
fragile form, and guided her footsteps in the best 



270 . LIFE IK DIXIE 

• 

part of the road. How like her beloved sister in 
Georg-ia she seemed! Accustomed to this little diver- 
sion, for she alwa3^s went to meet Mary, she had 
reckoned accurately reg'arding- the time of her daugh- 
ter's coming-, and we had not g-one far when we saw 
the carriag-e descending- a declivity in the distance. 
Nelson, the coachman, had also recog-nized "Mistress 
and Miss Mary," and announced his discovery to my 
cousin. Increased speed in the gait of the horses 
soon brought us together^ and she opened the door 
and stepped to the ground. After kissing her dear 
mother, she encircled me in her arms, and kissed me 
time and again, and then assisted me into the car- 
riage, and she and her mother followed. I greeted 
the coachman in a cordial manner, because of past 
service and present fidelity to " mistress and my white 
folks " generally. 

With ni}^ rapidit}- in conversation, I could scarcely 
keep up with m}' cousin's questions. Happy woman! 
She had never seen any " Blue-coats," or, in the par- 
lance of the times, "Yankees," and she enjo^^ed my 
description of them, especiall}^ when in answer to the 
question, " Do they look like our men ?" I attempted 
to define the difference. It was amusing to me to hear 
her describe the preparations she made for the com- 
ing- of Wilson and his raiders. 

After reaching home, she left her mother and my- 
self only a few minutes. I scarcely perceived her ab- 
sence, and yet when she returned the disparity in our 
dress was not so apparent. The elegant traveling suit 
had been exchanged for her plainest home attire, and 
every article of jewelry had disappeared. The brief 



DURING THE WAR. 271 

period spent with these dear relatives was spent in 
mutual efforts to entertain and amuse each other. 
Mj aunt's conversation was like sweet music in which 
minor chords abounded. Her love for her sister, and 
apprehension of evil, g-ave a pathetic turn to every 
conversation she attempted, and it was evident to 
me that she had given up all hope of my brother's 
safety, and her resignation under similar circum- 
stances was a g-reat support to me. 

Much as I enjoyed this luxurious home, and its re- 
iined appointments, there was a controlling motive — 
a nearer tie — that made me willing to again take up 
the hardships and perils of warfare, and battle for 
life with that relentless enemy left by Sherman to 
complete his cruel work, the aforesaid General Star- 
vation. 

After many farewell words were spoken, I left my 
aunt, accompanied by her daughter, who went with me 
to the station for the purpose of seeing me on the train 
bound for Fairburn, then the terminus of the rail- 
road. It was past noon when the train left the sta- 
tion, and in those days of slow railroad locomotion, 
it was all the afternoon reaching West Point. I 
learned before reaching there that I would have to 
remain over until the next morning, and, therefore, 
as soon as i stepped from the cars, started to hunt a 
place at which to spend the night. Wending my way, 
solitary and alone, through the twilight, I saw Mr. 
John Pate, the depot agent at Decatur, coming to- 
wards me. 

"Oh, Mr. Pate, have you heard anything from ma 
in the last week T 



272 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 

"Yes; it went very hard with her, but she was 
some better this morning-." 

I did not have to ask another question. I knew it 
all, and was dumb with g-rief. The thoug-ht that I 
would never see my darling- brother ag-ain paralyzed 
me. I saw him in the mirror of m}^ soul, in all the 
periods of his existence. The beautiful little baby 
boy, looking- at me the first time out of his heavenly 
blue eyes, and his second look, as if not satisfied with 
the first, followed by the sug-g-estion of a smile. Ah, 
that smile ! It had never failed me throug-h successive 
years and varying- scenes. The boyhood and youth — 
hone*st, truthful and g-enerous to a fault — and the no- 
ble, genial boyhood, had all developed within my 
recollection, and I loved him with an intensity border- 
ing- on idolatry. These scenes and many others 
?"ushed throug-h my mind with kaleidoscopic rapidity 
and made me so dizzy that I had no knowledg-e of 
how I reached the "hotel." My heart cried and re- 
fused to be comforted. From the consolation of re- 
lig-ion and patriotism it recoiled and cried all the 
more. A g-reat tie of nature had been sundered, and 
the heart, bruised and crushed and bleeding-, pulsated 
still with vitality that would have flickered out but 
for the hope of g-iving- comfort to the poor bereaved 
mother and sister in our g-reat sorrow. Good ladies 
bathed my throbbing- temples and kissed my cheeks 
and spoke comforting- words, for they were all drink- 
ing- the bitter waters of Marali, and knew how to 
reach the heart and speak of the balm of Gilead. 

"Killed on the battle-field, thirty steps from the 
breastworks at Franklin, Tennessee, November 30th, 



DUBINO THE WAB. 273 

1864," was the definite information reg-arding- ni}^ 
brother's death, left for me by Mr. Pate. 

Interminable as the darkness of nig-ht appeared, it 
at length gave way to the lig-ht of day, and I was 
ready with its dawn to take the train. But, oh, the 
weig-ht of this g-rief that was crushing- me ! Had the 
serpents which attacked Laocoon, and crushed him 
to death by their dreadful streng-th, reached out and 
embraced me in their complicated folds, I could not 
hav^e writhed in g-reater ag^ony. I did not believe 
it was God's will that my brother should die, and I 
could not say to that Holy Being-, " Thj^ will be 
done." In some way I felt a complicity in his death — 
a sort of personal responsibilit3^ When my brother 
wrote to me from his adopted home in Texas that, 
having- voted for secession, he believed it to be his 
duty to face the dang-er involved by that step, and 
fig-ht for the principles of self-g-overnment vouchsafed 
by the Constitution of the United States, I said noth- 
ing- in reply to discourag-e him, but rather I indicated 
that if I were eligible I should enter the the contest. 
These, and such as these were the harrowing refiec 
ions which accused me of personal responsibility for 
the demon of war entering- our household and carry- 
ing off the hope and prop of a widowed mother. 

I found my poor stricken mother almost prostrate. 
The tidings of her son's tragic death did the work 
apprehended by all who knew her nervous tempera- 
ment. Outwardly calm and resigned, 3^et almost 
paralj^zed by the blow, she was being tenderly cared 
for by our saintly neighbor, Mrs. Ammi Williams and 
her family, who will always be held in grateful re- 
membrance by her daughters. 



274 LIFJE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

MY mother's death. 
Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson performs the funeral service 

In S3^mpath3^ with a disappointed people who had 
staked all and lost all in the vain effort to defend the 
inherited rig-hts of freemen, and had not 3^et rallied 
from the depression occasioned by defeat, the spring- 
of 1866 had withheld her charms, and, instead of 
donning- a mantle of green, decorated with pansies, 
violets and primroses, hyacinths, bluebells and daffo- 
dils, verbenas, phlox and geraniums, and bloom of Adne 
and briar in endless variety, the first day of April 
found her wounded, bleeding- bosom wrapped in the 
habiliments of sorrow and despondenc3^ A few 
brave old apple trees, as if to encourage the more 
timid, had budded and blossomed and sent forth 
sweet fragrance as of yore, and a few daring- sprigs of 
grass suggested spring-time and sunny skies. 
Loneliness, oppressive and melancholy, and a spirit 
of unrest, prompted me to go to the depot in quest of 
something that never came, and my sister had 
stepped over to our neighbor, Mrs. Williams'. 

Our mother loved the spring-time. It had always 
been her favorite season of the year. Fifty-nine ver- 
nal suns had brought inspiration and hope to her 
sensitive, tender heart, and given impulse to a check- 
ered life ; but now no day-star of hope shed its efful- 
ofence for her. As I mentioned in a former sketch, her 



DURING THE WAR. 275 

only son had fallen mortally wounded upon the san- 
g^uinary battle-field of Franklin, and she had never 
recovered from the shock. 

After a few months of patient endurance, an at- 
tack of paralysis had occurred, and during" many da3^s 
life and death contended for the victory. But the skill 
of g-ood physicians, among- them Dr. Joseph P. Lo- 
g"an, and faithful, efficient nursing-, aided in g-iving- 
her a comfortable state of health lasting- throug-h sev- 
eral months. But the fiat had g-one forth, and now 
after a pathetic survey of earth, ming-led with thank- 
fulness even then to the God of the spring--time, she 
succumbed to the inevitable. 

Returning- from the depot, I espied in the distance 
the approaching- fig-ure of Telitha. As she came up to 
me she was the ver^^ picture of despair. With one 
hand clasped to her head, she fell on the ground and 
la}' as if dead for a moment. My worst apprehen- 
sions were more than realized. I found my mother 
speechless, and never more heard her voice — never 
more heard any sound emanating- from her lips except 
labored, heavy breathing. It was all so sudden and 
strang-e and sad, I cannot describe it. Neig-hbors and 
friends came in b}' the score, and did all they could 
to mitig-ate our g-reat sorrow. "Johnnie" Hardeman 
stayed until all was over, and mother never received 
from loving- son kinder care or more unremitting- at- 
tention. Paul Winn also remained and manifested 
deep sympathy, and so did other neig-hbors. Oh, the 
sorrow, the poig-nant sorrow, to see a mother in the 
embrace of death, and to have no power over the 
monster ! About thirty hours of unconsciousness, 



276 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
and without a strug-g-le, "life's fitful dream was over," 
about 9 o'clock p. m., April 1st, 1866. The silent 
hush that ensued w^as sacred, and scarcely broken by 
the sobs of those most deeply afflicted. 

Loving- hands fashioned a shroud, and a beautiful 
casket was obtained from Atlanta. When all was 
done, and our mother arrayed for the tomb, she 
looked like the bride of Heaven. I g-azed long- and 
earnestly upon her face and fig'ure, and went away 
and came back, and g-azed again admiring-ly. For 
every lineament was formed into a mold that compelled 
admiration. 

During- the two days that she lay there, I often 
ling-ered by her side ; and I recalled the many scenes, 
ofttimes perilous and sad, and ofttimes joyous 
and g"ay, throug-h which we had g-one tog-ether. 
Althoug-h a wee bit g-irl, scarcely turned in mj^ fifth 
year at the time of my mother's second marriag-e, I 
remembered her as a bride. I remembered our jour- 
ney by gig and wag-on to Cassville, then, paradoxical 
as it may sound now, situated in the heart of a 
wilderness of beauty and savag-er}^ The war-whoop 
of an uncivilized race of Indians, justly ang-ry and 
resentful, reverberated though the impenetrable for- 
est that belted the little settlement of white people 
that had the hardihood and bravery to make their 
homes among them. I remembered how she soon be- 
came a favorite, and was beloved by every one in 
that sparsely-settled locality, and won even the hearts 
of the Indians, by kindness towards them. She 
taught them how to make frocks and shirts, and 



JJURING THE WAR. 277 

clothes for their children, for the Cherokees were an 
ambitious people, and aspired to assimilation with 
the white race; and, to please them, she learned to 
bead moccasins, and other articles, ornamental and 
useful, just as they did. She also learned their alapha- 
bet, and became able to instruct them in their own 
lang-uag-e. 

I remembered how she had alwa3's worked for the 
poor; not so much in societies (where the g-ood that 
is accomplished in one way is often more than coun- 
terbalanced by the harm that is done in others), as in 
the quiet of her home, and in the humble habitations 
of God's poor. I remembered, with a melancholy 
thrill, how she had worked for our soldiers, and had 
not withheld g-ood deeds from an invading- alien 
army. Reverently I took in mine her little, symmet- 
rical hand as it lay peacefully over the heart that had 
ever beat in unison with all that was g-ood. It was 
weather-beaten, and I could feel the roug-h places on 
the palm through the pretty white silk g-love in which 
it was encased. Cold and stark in death, it g-ave no 
responsive pressure to my own. I thoug-ht of its -past 
service to me in which it never tired. It had trained 
my own from the rudimentary "straig-ht lines" and 
"pot hooks," throug-h all the intricacies of skilled 
penmanship, and from the picturesque letters on a 
sampler to the complete stitches of advanced em- 
broidery. The little motionless hand that I now held 
in my own had picked corn from cracks and crevices 
in bureau drawers, which served as troug-hs for Gar- 
rard's ceivalry horses, to make bread with which to 



278 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
appease her hung-er and mine. I g-azed upon the pallid 
face and finely-chiseled features. The nose never 
seemed so perfect, or the brow so fair, or the snow- 
white hair so beautiful. The daintiest of mull caps 
heightened the effect of the perfect combination of 
feature, placidity- and intellectual expression. I 
fancied I had never seen her look so beautiful, and 
felt that it was meet that we should la}^ her away in 
a tomb where she could rest undisturbed until the 
resurrection morn, not doubting- that the verdict of a 
great and good God would assign her a place among 
His chosen ones. 

Soothing to our bruised hearts was the sweet 
singing of those who watched at night beside her 
lifeless form. With gratitude we remember them 
still : Laura and Mary Williams, Emma and John 
Kirkpatrick, Josiah Willard and John McKoy. One 
of the hj^mns thej- sang was "Jerusalem, My Happy 
Home." ^ 

The hour for the funeral service came. Friends 
and neighbors and fellow-citizens had been assem- 
bling for several hours, and now the house was full, 
and the yard was thronged. Where did this con- 
course of people come from — old men, war-stricken 
veterans, and a few 3'oung men who had survived 
the bloody conflict that had decimated the youth of 
the South, and boys and women and girls I All alike 
came to pay respect to the deceased friend, and to 
show sympathy- for the bereaved and lonely sisters. 
That sainted man and friend of ours. Rev. John S. 
Wilson, took his stand near the casket, and we sat 



nUlilNG THE WAR. 270 

near him, and those who loved us best g-ot very. near 
to us. Ah, well do I remember them ! I could call 
each b}^ name now, and the order in which they came. 
An impressive silence ensued, broken b}^ the man of 
God uttering in hopeful intonation and animated 
manner, " She is not dead, but sleepeth," and a sermon 
followed upon the resurrection of God's people, never 
surpassed in interest and pathos. All felt the power 
of his theme, and the eloquence of his words. He also 
spoke of the humble modesty of his friend, who had 
counted herself least in the congregation of the right- 
eous, and dispensed favors to others in an unobtrusive 
manner, and who practically illustrated the divine 
command : " Do unto others as ye would that others 
should do unto you." This beautiful funeral tribute 
was succeeded b}- the hymn — 

"Rock of ages, cleft for me," 

which was sung with an unction which none but 
Christians can feel. 

The last earthly look, solemn and earnest, was 
taken of our long-suffering, patient, loving mother, 
and everybody in the house followed our example 
and gazed reverentl}^ upon the pretty face, cold in 
death. And then the pall-bearers, "Johnnie" Kirk- 
patrick, "Johnnie" Hardeman, Virgil Wilson and 
Mr. G. W. Houston, bore her to the grave. 

With uncovered head and grey locks fluttering in 
the vernal breeze, Dr. Wilson repeated the beautiful 
burial service of the Presbyterian Church. I can 
never describe the utter desolation of feeling I ex- 
perienced as I stood clasped in the arms of my sis- 



280 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ter, and heard the first spadeful of earth fall over the 
remains of our loved one. 

But we had heard above all the glorious words, 
"This mortal shall put on immortality," and "O, 
death, where is th}' sting- ? O, g-rave, where is thy 
victory ? " 



WRING THE WAU. 281 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

A KEMINISCENCE. 

"Sister, you are not paying- any attention what- 
ever to my reading-, and you are losing the most beau- 
tiful thoug-hts in this delightful book." 

"Yes, and I am sorry to do so; but I think I see 
one of Rachel's children— Madaline or Frances." 

My sister closed her book, and, looking in the 
direction indicated, ag-reed with me that the neg-ro 
woman, clothed in the habiliments of widowhood, 
who was coming- up the avenue with a little boy by 
her side and one in her arms, was one of Rachel's chil- 
dren; and, although she was scarcely in her teens 
when she went away, she was a mother now, and 
traces of care were visible in every lineament of her 
face. I recog-nized her, however, as Rachel's 3^oung- 
est daughter, Frances, and went to meet her. 
"Is that you, Frances? " I asked. 
"Yes, Miss Mary, this is me; your same nigger 
Frances, and these are my children." 

"I am glad to see you and 3-our children;" and I ex- 
tended my hand in genuine cordiality to her who had 
once been a slave in my mother's family, and I bade 
her welcome to her old home. Frances was too de- 
monstrative to be satisfied with simply hand-clasping, 
and putting her boy on the ground, she threw her arms 

19 



282 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
around me and literall}^ overwhelmed me with kisses. 

My hands, neck and face were covered with 
them, and she picked me up and carried me in her 
arms to the house, her children following- in amazed 
astonishment. She now turned her attention to 
them, and, after deliberately shaking- the wrinkles out 
of their clothes, she as deliberately introduced them 
to me. The older of the two she introduced as "King- 
by name," and the young-er as " Lewis b}' name." 

"You see. Miss Mary, I named my children King- 
emd Lewis 'cause my white folks named my brothers 
King- and Lewis. 

The ceremony of introducing- her sons to /icr old 
zvhitc folks being- performed to her satisfaction, she 
ag-ain turned her attention to me, and ag-ain literally 
overwhelmed me with caresses. 

Entering- the house, I asked Frances and her chil- 
dren to come in too. 

"Miss Mary, whar's Miss Polly ?" 

"Have you not heard, Frances, that ma is dead ?" 

"Seem to me I has heard somethin' about it, but 
some how I didn't believe it. And m}^ poor Miss 
Polly is dead ! Well, she ain't dead, but she's g-one to 
heaven." 

And Frances became quite hysterical in demonstra- 
tions of g-rief. 

"And Marse Thomie, what about him. Miss Mary?" 

"He was killed by the enemy at Franklin, Tenn., 
the 30th of Novenber, 1864." 

"Miss Mary, did them old Yankees kill him?" 

"Yes, he was killed in battle," 



WRING THE WAR. 283 

And a^aiti, whether sincere or affected, Frances 
became hysterical in demonstrations of g-rief. 

"Miss Mar}^ whar's Miss Missouri? Is she dead 
too?" 

" No ; that was she who was sitting- in the portico 
with me as you were coming- up the avenue. She 
always has to g-o off and compose herself before 
meeting- any of you — ma was that way, too — I suppose 
you remind her of happier days, and the contrast 
is so sad that she is overcome by g-rief and has to g-et 
relief in tears. 

"Yes'm, I have to cry, too, and it does me a mon- 
stous heap of g-ood. I know it's mig-hty childish, but 
I jest can't help it. Jest to think all my white folks 
is done dead but Miss Mary and Miss Missouri !" 

"Our brother left a dear little boy in Texas, and I 
am g"oing- after him next winter. He and his mother 
are g"oing to live with us, and then we will not be so 
lonely." 

" That's so. Miss Mary." 

Frances and her children having partaken of a 
bountiful supper, she resumed, with renewed vigor, 
her erratic conversation, which consisted, chiefly, of 
innumerable questions, interspersed with much mira- 
culous information regarding herself since she left 
her white folks and became a wife, a mother, and a 
widow. 

"Miss Mary, whar's my children going to sleep to- 
night?" 

"With your help I will provide a comfortable place 
for them, and, also, for you." 



284 LIFE IN VIXIE 

• 

And taking- a lantern and leading- the way to the 
kitchen, I entered and pointed to a lig-ht bedstead, 
and told her to carry a portion of it at a time to my 
room, and we would put it up in there. 

" Same old room, jest like it was when me and my 
mammy used to sleep in it. 

"Well, thing's do look mig-hty nateral if it has 
been a long- time since I seed it. 

"And Miss Mary is ag-oing- to let me and my chil- 
dren sleep in her room. Well !" 

The bedstead having- been placed in position, a mat- 
tress and bed clothing- were furnished. And soon the 
little neg-ro children were soundly sleeping- under the 
protecting- roof of their mother's former young- mis- 
tresses. 

"Whar's your teakettle. Miss Mary?" Having- 
been told where to find it, Frances took it to the well 
and filled it with water, and, by adding- a little more 
fuel to the fire, soon had it boiling-. 

"Whar's your bath-tub. Miss Mary?" 

That, too, was soon produced and supplied with 
hot water, reduced to proper temperature. Memo- 
ries of the past left no doubt in my mind as to the 
use to which the water was to be applied, and I de- 
termined to gratify every fancy that would g-ive 
pleasure to our former handmaid, and, therefore, I 
made no resistance when g-arters were unbuckled, 
shoes and stocking-s removed, and feet tenderly lifted 
into the tub. She knew just how long to keep them 
there, and how to manipulate them so as to give the 
most satisfaction and enjojniient ; and how to dry 
them — a very important process. And then the shoes 



BUBING THE WAR. 285 

and stocking-s were ag"ain put on, and g-iving- me an 
affectionate pat on the head she told me to sit still 
until she told me to move. 

" Now, whar's your comb and brush ?" 

The force of habit must have impelled her to ask 
this question, as, without awaiting- an answer, she 
went to the bureau and g^ot the articles about which 
she had asked, and in a few moments she had m}^ 
long, luxuriant black hair uncoiled and flowing- over 
my shoulders. She was delig-hted ; she combed and 
braided it, and unbraided and combed it ag-ain and 
again, and finally, as if reluctant to do so, arranged it 
for the night. 

"Now, whar's your gown ?" 
"You will find it hanging in the wardrobe." 

Having undressed me, Frances insisted upon put- 
ting the gown on me, and then wanted to scarry and 
put me in bed ; this se^-vice, however, I declined with 
thanks. All these gentle manipulations had a sopo- 
rific effect upon me, and I fain would have slept, but 
no such pleasure was in store for me. Prances had 
an axe to grind, and I had to turn the grindstone, or 
incur her displeasure. Mark her proposition : 

" Miss Mary, I come to give you my children.'' 

"Your what ?*' 

" My children, these smart little boys. I'll go with 
you to the court-house in the morn in' and 3^ou can 
have the j)apers drawn up and I'll sign 'em, and 
these little niggers will belong to you 'til they's of 
age to do for theyselves ; and all I'll ever ask you to 
do for me for 'em is to raise them like mv Miss Poll}^ 
raised me." 



286 LIFE IN DIXIE 

" That you should be willing- to give your children 
awa}^ Frances, surprises me exceedingly. If you are 
without a home, and would like to come here and 
live, I will do all I can for you and your children. 
The kitchen is not occupied, only as a lumber or bag*- 
gage room, and you can have that without paying 
rent ; and you can take care of the cow and have all 
you can make off of her milk and butter, except just 
enough for the table use of two ; and you can have a 
garden without paying rent, and many other favors — 
indeed, I will favor you in every possible way." 

"Well, I tell you how it is. Miss Mary. You see, 
mammy wants to open up a laundry, and she wants 
me to help her. She's done 'gaged several womens to 
help her, and she wants me to go in with her sorter 
as a partner, you see. And I wants to get my chil- 
dren a good home, for you knows if I had to take care 
of 'em I couldn't do much in a laundr3\" 

"And you want me to take care of them? " 

" Yes'm; just like you used to take care of your 
own little niggers before freedom, and after I sign 
the papers they'll belong to j^ou, don'/ you know.'' 

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Prances, but I can- 
not accept your offer. If slavery were restored and 
every negro on the American continent were offered 
to me, I should spurn the offer, and prefer poverty 
rather than assume the cares and perplexities of the 
ownersh-ip of a people who have shown .very little 
gratitude for what has been done for them." 
Without seeming to notice the last sentence, Frances 
exclaimed: 



DURING THE WAR. 287 

"Well, it's mig-hty strang-e. White folks used to 
love little nig-g-ers, and now they won't have them as a 
gracious g-ift." 

Under the cover of nig-ht she had made her proposi- 
tion and received her disappointment, after which she 
lay down by her children and was soon sleeping- 
at the rate of 2:40 per hour, if computed by the snor- 
ing- she kept up. In due time morning-, cheerful, sun- 
lig-hted morning-, came, and with it many benig-n in- 
fluences and g-ood resolutions for the day. 

Frances asked where everything was, and having- 
ascertained, went to work and soon had a nice, appe- 
tizing- breakfast for us, as well as for herself and 
children. After that important meal had been en- 
joyed, she inquired about the trains on the Georg-ia 
Railroad, and asked what time she could g-o into At- 
lanta. I told her she could g-o at nine o'clock, but I 
preferred that she should stay until twelve 
o'clock, m. 

"Miss Mary, what was in that trunk I saw in the 
kitchen last nig-ht ?" 

"I scarcely know; odds and ends put there for safe- 
keeping-, I suppose. 

"May I have the trunk and the odds and ends in 
it ? They can't be much, or they wouldn't be put off 
there." 

"We will g-o and see." Ag-ain I took the kitchen 
key, and the trunk key as well, and having- unlocked 
both receptacles, I told Frances to turn the contents 
of the trunks out ubon the floor. When she saw them 
I noticed her disappointment, and I told her to 
remain there until I called her. I went in the house 



288 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and g-ot a pair of sheets, a pair of blankets, a quilt, 
several dresses and underclothing, and many things 
that she could make useful for her children, and put 
them together, and then called her and told her to 
take them and put them in the trunk. 

"Look here, Miss Marj, jou ain't going to give 
me all them things, is you ?" 

"Yes," put them in the trunk and lock it." 
A large sack of apples, a gift also, was soon gath- 
ered and a bo}' engaged to carr}^ it and the trunk 
over to the depot in a v^heelbarrow. Prompth^ at 
half-past eleven o'clock the trunk and apples, and 
Frances and her little boys, were on the way to the 
depot, en route to Atlanta, their future home, and 
even a synopsis of the subsequent achievements of 
that woman and her unlettered mother would be sug- 
gestive of Munchausen. 



DURING THE WAR. 289 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

HOW THE DKCATUR WOMEN KEPT UP THE SABBATH 
.vSCHOOL. 

A Brief Sketch of the Old Churches and the Union Sunday 
School — The Resumption of Church Services. 

Before the war there were in Decatur but two 
churches, the Methodist and the Presb3^terian ; al- 
thoug-h Baptist and Episcopal services were occasion- 
ally held. The churches first mentioned ^ad been 
org-anized about 1825. The Presb3^terians first wor- 
shipped in a log- church, and afterwards in a frame 
building-, but in 1846 had erected a substantial brick 
church. In this building- was also taug-ht the Decatur 
Union Sabbath School, org-anized in 1831, and for 
twentj^-five years preceding- the summer of 1864 it 
had been superintended by that g-odly man, Mr. Levi 
Willard. 

The Federals had now come in. The church had 
been rifled of all its contents, including- the pews. 
The faithful Sunday School superintendent with his 
lovely family soon after went away. Being- nearer to 
our house, I remember more about the dismantling- 
and refurnishing- of the Presbyterian church than of 
the Methodist. So far as can be ascertained, the last 
sermon at the Presbyterian church had been preached 
by Rev. James C. Patterson, who was then living- at 
Griffin, but was the stated supply of the pulpit here 



290 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
at that time. He will be remembered as a most g^odlj 
man, and as a sweet sing-er of sacred song-s. 

The Sabbath before the entrance of the Federals, no 
service was held in the dear old church. The last 
prayer service had been held on Wednesday afternoon, 
led by Mr. Levi Willard, who was an efficient elder. 

In July, 1864, but few families remained in Decatur; 
but there was still a goodl}^ number of children and 
young- people whose training- must not be neg"lected. 
On the southwest corner of the Courthouse stood, and 
still stands, a long-, narrow, two-story house. The 
lower story was occupied as a residence — the upper 
story, for many years preceding- and succeeding- these 
times, was the quarters of the Masonic Lodge. In the 
ante-room of this lodg-e. Miss Lizzie Mortin taug-ht a 
day school. The first story of the building- was now 
occupied by the family of Mr. John M. Hawkins. 
Mr. Hawkins had enlisted in the army early in the 
war, but for some reason had returned home and 
been elected clerk of the court, which position he held 
until forced to leave before the advancing- foe. 

Mrs. Hawkins, whose maiden name was Valeria 
A. Perkins, the eldest daug-hter of Reuben Perkins 
of Franklin county, g-ladly opened her house on Sun- 
day morning-s that the children mig-ht be taug-ht in the 
Sacred Scriptures. And thus a Sunday School was 
beg-un, and Mrs. Hawkins was made the superin- 
tendent. 

Among- the org-anizers and teachers may be 
mentioned Miss Cynthia Brown, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, 
Mrs. Kddleman, Miss Lizzie Morton, and Miss Lizzie 
McCrar3^ Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan, Mrs. Ammi 



DURING THE WAR. 391 

Williams, and Mr. Fred Williams acted as a sort of 
advisory board. Rev. Dr. Holmes and Rev. P. F. 
Hughes, two elderly Baptist ministers, sometimes 
came ; and Mr. R. J. Cooper, a godly layman, came a 
few times. 

The names of some of these Sabbath school pupils 
can yet be re-called : — Charley, Guss and Lizzie Haw- 
kins ; their Cousins John, Sam, Ellen and Lizzie 
Hawkins, the children of Mr. Sam Hawkins, who is 
still living in Summerville, Georgia ; the children of 
Mr. R. J. Cooper, and of Mrs. Eddleman, Mrs. 
Chivers, and of Mr. Ed Morton. There were others 
whose names I cannot recall. 

The number of pupils increased to forty, and the 
school, having out-grown its quarters, was moved to 
the Court House ; but when the Federals chose to 
occupy the Court House, the Sunday school was moved 
back to Mrs. Hawkins's home. The Bible was the 
text book ; for there were no Sunday-school papers or 
song books. 

Imagine the scene, if you can. Says one of the 
participants, who was then a young girl : "We were 
a peculiarly dressed lot. I had a stand-by suit, the 
skirt made of a blanket shawl; with this I wore one of 
my brother's white shirts and a red flannel jacket. I 
had grown so fast that I was taller than my mother, 
and there was literally nothing large enough in our 
house or circle of friends to make me a whole suit. 
One of the ladies wore a gray plaid silk, a pair of 
brown jeans shoes, and a woven straw bonnet. She 
had nothing else to wear. Many of the children were 
rigged out in clothes made from thrown-away uni- 



292 LIFE IN DIXIE 

forms, picked up, washed, and cut down by the 
mothers." 

Mrs. Hawkins is still living- near Decatur. She 
remembers that on several occasions the soldiers came 
in while the school was in session, much to the demor- 
alizing of g-ood order and comfort of mind. On one 
occasion the raiders piled barrels one on top of 
another, near the house, and set them afire, frig-hten- 
ing- the children very much. 

When the war was over, the refug"ees beg^an to 
return. Among- the first were the families of Mr. J. 
W. Kirkpatrick, Mr. Ezekiel Mason, Captain Milton 
A. Candler, Dr. W. W. Durham, Dr. P. P. Hoyle, 
Mrs. Jane Morg-an, Mrs. Cynthia Stone, Mr. James 
Winn, Mr. Benjamin Swanton, Mr. Jonathan Wilson, 
and Mr. J. N. Pate. But, alas ! our faithful old Sun- 
day-school superintendent and his family returned 
not, but remained in Spring-field, Ohio, with the ex- 
ception of Mr. Josiah J. Willard, who afterwards mar- 
ried Miss Jessie Candler, a sister of Captain Candler. 

These returning- refug-ees were devoted to the 
Sunday-school. Mr. John C. Kirkpatrick, just from 
the war, and scarce twenty-one, undertook the task 
of re-seating- the Presbyterian church. He went out 
to a saw-mill and had puncheons sawed and carried to 
Mr. Kirkpatrick's cabinet shop, where they were fash- 
ioned into temporary seats. These were placed in the 
church, and it was once more opened for the exercises 
of the union Sunday-school, and also for divine wor- 
ship. Who conducted those exercises, I can find no 
one who now remembers. My mother had been 
stricken in July, 1865, with paralysis, which confined 



DVlilNG THE WAR. 293 

her to her bed for many weeks. It was not to be sup- 
posed that her djiug-hters could leave her ; so that 
neither one of them can recollect these sessions of the 
resumed Sabbath-school. 

There lies before me " the Sunday-school reg-ister 
and minute-book of 1866," kindly furnished for inspec- 
tion by Mr. Hiram J. Williams, who had from early 
youth been constantly identified with the Sunday- 
school and church. The Superintendent was Mr. Ben 
T. Hunter ; the librarian, Mr. John C. Kirkpatrick ; 
the treasurer, Mr. John J. McKo3^ Mr. Kirkpatrick 
removed to Atlanta in the Aug-ust of that j^ear, and 
Mr. Josiah Willard was elected to fill his place, but 
resigned in December to g-o on to Ohio, from whence 
he soon returned, and died a few 3^ears ago in Atlanta. 

But I must not forget that I am not writing- a his- 
tory of the Sabbath-school, yet I cannot leave the 
theme without mentioning- the fact that all the faith- 
ful ones who had taug-ht in the stormy days of war 
still came in time of peace,, and many others whose 
hearts had not grown cold by their enforced absence. 
Let me mention the teachers : Mr. J. W. Kirkpatrick, 
Dr. P. F. Hoyle, Rev. A. T. Holmes, Mr. W. W. 
Brimm, Captain Milton A. Candler, Mr. G. A. Rams- 
peck*, Dr. John L. Hardman, Mr. H. H. Puckett, Mr. 
W. A. Moore (afterwards a Superintendent), Miss 
C3mthia Brown, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, Mrs. Eddleman, 
Mrs. Catharine Winn, Mrs. Jane Morg-an, Miss Lizzie 
Swanton, Mrs. E. A. Mason, Mrs. Valeria A. Haw- 
kins, Mrs. J. J. McKoy and Miss Lee Moore. Miss 



*Thi8 gentleman, who married sweet Maggie Morgan, (the sister of Dewitt 
and Billy), haa now been Sunday school treasurer for twenty-seven years. 



294 LIFE IN DIXIE 

M. H. Stokes had been appointed one of the teachers, 
but her mother's feeble health, and the g-reat shock 
consequent upon her death, prevented this teacher 
from attending- that 3'ear with anj regularity. 

Among- the names of "visitors" we notice those 
of Mr. Bryce, Rev. P. F. Hug-hes, Mr. Cooper, and Mr. 
L. J. Winn. 

The re-opening- of the Sabbath school at the old 
church was doubtless a great blessing- to many. To 
one 3^oung- man the joining- of that school, and the 
acceptance of a teacher's place, meant the first public 
step to a profession of faith in Christ. Captain Mil- 
ton A. Candler was the child of pious parents, but so 
far as he knew, was at this time an unconverted man. 
He reluctantly and with g-reat diffidence accepted a 
teacher's place. Said he quite recently : "I attribute 
my subsequent union with the church to the study of 
the Bible which I made while teaching- a class of little 
boys. Sabbath after Sabbath, in the old church with 
its puncheon seats. I taug-ht mj^ pupils, a class of 
little bovs, to read from 'the blue-back speller,' and, 
when that lesson was over, read to them from the 
Bible, explaining- it to them as best I could in all 
humility." In a few years he made a public profes- 
sion of his faith in Christ, and was elected to the 
Superintendency of the Sabbath-school, (which office 
he still holds), and has labored for its interests with a 
love and an unfiag-g-ing- zeal rarely ever equalled. 

How sweet were the voices of man} of the teachers 
and pupils! John C. Kirkpatrick sang- a fine tenor; 
and clear and soft and true were the tones of Josiah 
Willard, sweet as the lovely character of this sainted 



nUEING THE WAR. 295 

one. All who knew Rev. J. D. Burkhead remember 
his singing-, and he often led the music. A little 
later came Mrs. Mary Jane Wood with her magnifi- 
cent voice, and the grand bass of Joseph Morgan, the 
son of one of the pioneer teachers, Mrs. Martha Mor- 
gan. From this Sunda3^-school, and from its ex-Con- 
federate soldiers, there went into the ministry W. W. 
Brimm, Paul P. Winn and Sam K. Winn. Promoted 
to the Glory Land long ago was Mrs. Jane Morgan; 
and, more recently, Mrs. Catherine Winn. 

In the summer of 1866, a Sabbath-school was or- 
ganized at the Methodist church, which, while a step 
in the right direction, was the sundering, in one 
sense, of ties that were very dear. 

I cannot ascertain when the first sermon was 
preached in the church after the war, but think it 
must have been in August, as there is this entry in 
the journal of my sister. Miss Stokes, already quoted 
from in a former part of this volume: "Sunday, 
August 27th, 1865. — Dr. Holmes preached in the 
Presbyterian church, which has been re-opened for 
divine service, being furnished with puncheon seats 
without backs. There are a few benches with backs. 
Next Sabbath, Dr Wihnn will frrhrrinintrr the commun- 
ion of the Lord's supper." This was done at the time 
appointed — the first communion held in the church after 
the war. (The Dr. Wilson referred to was the vener- 
able Rev. John S. Wilson, D. D., who had organized 
the church forty years before.) 

So far as is known, the only part of the former 
church furnishings that ever re-appeared was the me- 
lodeon (or " seraphine "), which Rosella Stone, a ne- 



296 LIFE IN DIXIE 

gro woman, liad preserved. She must have done this 
for the sake of Miss Marian Stone, who had formerly 
played it in' church, and who, if I remember arig-ht, 
played it ag-ain after the resumption of church ser- 
vices. 

In the winter of 1865 and 1866, there was preach- 
ing- for a short while by the Rev. Theodore Smith. 
Then followed Rev. J. D. Burkhead, and under his 
preaching-, in the earl}^ spring-, there occurred a pro- 
tracted meeting-, at which many persons were added 
to the church. 

Gladly would I recall, if I could, the preachers who 
supplied the Methodist church at that time, but my 
memory fails me as to the exact details. I believe, 
however, that the Rev. William Henry Clarke, re- 
ferred to in a preceding- sketch, was the first Method- 
ist minister who preached there after the war ; and 
that Rev. Mr. Morg-an and Rev. William A. Dodg-e 
were the first ministers in charg-e appointed by Con- 
ference. 

In ante-bellum times, on many of the larg-e planta- 
tions, special services were held for the neg-roes — some 
planters paying- a reg-ular salary for this purpose. In 
pious families, members of the household often taug-ht 
the slaves, especially the house servants, the Bible and 
Catechism. So far as I can recollect, certain seats 
were assig-ned to them in all churches at all services, 
besides the special services usually held for them on 
Sabbath afternoons. 

After the war, the neg-roes of Decatur and sur- 
rounding- country were organized into a Sabbath- 
school at the Presbyterian Church, They came in 



DURING THE WAR. 297 

larg-e numbers, and were faithfully taug-ht by the 
people of Decatur. To the kind courtesy of Mr. 
Georg-e A. Ramspeck I am indebted for the loan of 
the Minute-book of this school, which seems to have 
been organized in 1867. The pastor was the Superin- 
tendent. The Vice-Superintendent was Mr. Samuel 
K. Winn, the Treasurer, Mr. Georg-e A. Ramspeck, 
and the Librarian, Mr. Moses S. Brown. But after 
several months the negroes went off to themselves, 
and eventually founded the African Methodist Episco- 
pal Church. They have also a Baptist Church. In 
these undertaking-s they were assisted by the people 
of the villag-e. 



20 



298 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

POSTAL AFFAIRS. 

The Postmaster, Hiram J. Williams— A life that was a reality, 
but reads like a romance. 

The north side of the court-house square at Deca- 
tur is intersected by a public road leading- to North 
Decatur, Silver Lake, the Chattahoochee River, and 
points beyond. On the eastern corner of this inter- 
section stands the well-known Bradbury House. The 
house itself is an unsightly object, being- almost un- 
tenable throug-h ag-e and neg-lect, but occupying- a 
most desirable location. From its site lovely views of 
the surrounding- country may be obtained, as the eye 
sweeps the circle of the horizon which is bounded on 
the north by distant hills, and on the northwest by 
the blue peaks of the Kennesaw. In the west is a 
near-by plateau, crowned with oaks and pines, beauti- 
ful in the morning- when covered with a filmy mantle 
of faint purple mist — gorg-eous at evening-, when over- 
hung- by sunset clouds. 

In 1860 the lower part of the Bradbury House was 
occupied as a store and postoffice, the proprietor and 
postmaster being- Mr. William Bradbury. His assist- 
ant was Hiram J. Williams, then a lad of fourteen 
years. When Mr. Bradbury- enlisted in the DeKalb 
Lig-ht Infantry in 1861, Hiram became in reality the 
postmaster. At that early ag-e he manifested the 
same traits which have characterized him to this day 



DURING THE WAE. 299 

— unwearied attention to the business before him, un- 
varying- courtesy, beautiful modesty, calm unbroken 
serenity of manner, and an unswerving- honesty. 

During- the four years of the war, the mail received 
and sent out from Decatur was enormous in its 
quantity, and all the while it was handled by this 
youth; for when, in 1862, Mr. Bradbury resig-ned and 
Mr. John N. Pate was appointed postmaster in his 
place, Hiram Williams was retained in the office, Mr. 
Pate simply bringing- over the mail from the depot. 
So g-reat was the quantity of mail matter that some- 
times Hiram had to call to his assistance his young- 
friend, John Bowie. 

During- those war years, there were but few post- 
offices in DeKalb County, and the people for miles 
around had their mail sent to Decatur. The soldiers, 
unless writing- to young- ladies, rarely ever paid post- 
ag-e on their letters, but left it to be done by their 
home folks. This unpaid postag-e had to be collected 
and kept account of. Often a poor wife or mother, 
after trudging- weary miles to the postoffice, would 
receive a letter from husband or son and, unwilling- to 
return without answering- it, would request Hiram to 
answer it for her, which he always did. With every 
package of letters sent out, a way-bill had to go, 
showing- the number of letters, how many were pre- 
paid, how many unpaid, etc, etc. Imagine the work 
this entailed ! Imagine the great responsibility ! 
Imagine the youth who bore this labor and responsi- 
bility for four years ! Smeill of stature, quiet in man- 
ner, but with an undaunted spirit looking- out from 
his steady but softly bright brown eyes. How brave 



300 LIFE IN DIXIE 

• 
he must have been, and how his good widowed mother 
and onl}^ sister must have doted on him. 

In July, 1864, when the booming- of the Federal 
g-uns is heard from the banks of the Chattahoochee, 
the postoffice is closed and for several month there- 
after letters, if sent for at all, are sent by hand. 

Our brave little postmaster now hies him away to 
Aug"usta, and there acts as mailing* clerk for " The 
Constitutionalist," and, after the surrender, for " The 
Evening- Transcript." In 1866 he returns to Decatur 
and eng-ag-es in mercantile business with Willard and 
McKoy, but soon after opens a store of his own. 

Early in 1867, Mr. Williams, now arrived at the 
ag-e of twenty-one, is appointed postmaster at Decatur 
by Samuel W. Randall, postmaster g"eneral of the 
United States Government. In 1869 Mr. Williams 
was elected clerk of the Superior Court of DeKalb 
County, still retaining" the office of postmaster, but 
having- an assistant in each position. 

In 1871, he was re-elected clerk of the court, and 
ag-ain in 1873. All this time he continued to be post- 
master, and was re-commissioned by Postmaster 
General Jewell in 1875, holding- the office up to 1880. 

Mr. Williams continued to be Clerk of the Superior 
Court until 1884, when Mr. Robert Russell, a Confed- 
erate veteran, was elected. Mr. Williams then re- 
turned for a while to mercantile pursuits. But while 
pursuing- the even tenor of his way, was called to a 
responsible position in Atlanta (which he still holds) 
with the G. W. Scott Manufacturing- Company, now 
known as the Southern Fertilizer Company. 

From 1870 to 1886, Mr. Williams was a special 



DVBING THE WAE. 301 

correspondent of "The Atlanta Constitution," thus 
preserving- the history of Decatur and of DeKalb 
county during- that period. 

So much for a business career of remarkable suc- 
cess. But is this all ? What of the hig-her and nobler 
life ? This has not been neg-lected. In 1866 Mr. Wil- 
liams united with the Decatur Presbyterian church. 
In 1868 he was appointed Librarian of the Sabbath 
school, an office he still holds. In 1894 he was elected 
to the office of Deacon, and also appointed church 
Treasurer. When the Ag-nes Scott Institute, for 
g-irls, was founded in 1891, he was made Secretary and 
Treasurer. 

Mr. Williams has been twice married— in his early 
manhood, to Miss Jennie Hug-hes, who lived but a 
short while. His present wife was Miss Belle Stew- 
ard, who has been a true help-meet. They have a 
lovely and hospitable home on Sycamore street, where 
her sweet face, ever beaming: with cheerfulness and 
loving- kindness and sympathy for all, must be to him 
as a g-uiding- star to lead and bless him with its lig-ht, 
as he returns at evening- from the city and its business 
cares and toils, to the rest and peace of home. 

If any one should say that this is not strictly a 
war sketch, I would reply, "no, but who could resist 
following- up at least the salient points of such a life 
—a life that exemplifies the main elements of success." 
Dear young- readers, have you not seen what they are: 
—perseverance, fidelity to trusts reposed, punctuality, 
courtesy, honesty and conscientiousness— in other 
words, adherence to rig-ht principles and to Christian 
duty. 



302 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXX. 

THE TRAGIC DEATH OF SAI.LIE DURHAM. 

The closing days of the war. — A sketch of the Durham family 
—The death of Sallie. 

On the 9th of April, 1865, at Appomattox Court 
House, Lee had surrendered his army of twent3^-five 
thousand men to Grant with his four-fold forces. One 
after another of the Confederate Generals had been 
forced to yield to superior numbers, and b}^ the last of 
May the war was over. 

"The North had at the beg-inning of the strife a 
population of twenty-two millions ; the South had ten 
millions, four millions of whom were slaves. The 
North had enlisted during- the war two million six 
hundred thousand troops — the South a little more 
than six hundred thousand. Now the North had a 
million men to send home — the South but one hun- 
dred and fifty thousand." 

Jefferson Davis had been captured, and imprisoned 
in Fortress Monroe. Our worn and rag-g-ed soldiers 
had returned to a devastated country. Our entire 
people were to beg-in life over ag-ain in the midst of 
poverty, uncertainty, and under the watchful eye of 
the conqueror. The war was over, but militar}^ rule 
was not. 

It was in these transition days, between the fall of 
"the Lost Cause" and the more stirring- events of 



nUBlNG THE WAR. 303 

"Reconstruction," that there occurred in our little 
village a most appalling" trag^edy. To understand it 
fully, mj readers should know something- of the 
young- lady's family. Let us pause here and take a 
backward g-lance. 

About a hundred years ago Lindsey Durham, a 
Georg-ia boy of Eng-lish descent, g-raduated from a 
Philadelphia Medical Colleg-e and located in Clarke 
county, in his native State. Drug-s were expensive, 
as they could not be obtained nearer than Savannah, 
Charleston or New York. Being- surrounded by 
frontiersmen and Indians, he could but notice the 
efficacy of the native barks and roots used b}^ them as 
medicines. He was thus led to adopt to a larg-e ex- 
tent the theories of the Botanic School. He beg-an to 
cultivate his own medicinal plants, and to prosecute 
with much zeal his botanical studies and researches. 
He even went to Europe and procured seeds and plants 
of medicinal value, until finally his g-arden of medici- 
nal herbs and plants contained thirteen acres. So 
g-reat was his fame that patients beg-an to come to 
him from adjoining- States, and he had to build cot- 
tag-es on his plantation in order to entertain them. 
His marvellous success broug-ht to him ample compen- 
sation. He became a millionaire, and lived in all the 
old-time splendor. Once, by a loan of money, he res- 
cued the Athens bank from utter failure. 

Dr. Lindsey Durham left several sons, all of whom 
were physicians. The eldest of these, and the most 
eminent, was Dr. William W. Durham, who was born 
on his father's plantation in Clarke county, in 1823. 
After a coUeg-iate course at Mercer University, he 



304 LIF£J IN DIXIE 

• 
graduated from the Jefferson Medical College of Phil- 
adelphia, taking- hig-h honors, spending five years in 
the hospital there, and perfecting himself in surgery. 
This talented g-entleman married Miss Sarah Lowe, of 
Clarke county, and, four years after her death, he 
married Mrs. Georgia A. Allen, whose maiden name 
was Wood, and who was a native of Franklin, Geor- 
g-ia. 

With the children of his first marriage and their 
fair young step-mother. Dr. Durham came to Decatur 
in 1859. Well do I remember the children; two hand- 
some sons, John and William — two prett}^ brown-e^^ed 
girls, Sarah and Catherine. It is needless to say that 
a large practice awaited the skillful ph^^sician, whose 
eclectic methods were then comparatively new. 

William, the eldest son, went into the Confederate 
service at the age of sixteen, remaining- the entire four 
years, suffering severely at the sie^e of Vicksburg-, 
fighting valiantly at the Battle of Atlanta, and coming- 
out of the war the shadow of his former self, with 
nothing- but an old army mule and one silver dollar. 

Sarah Durham, called Sallie b}- her family and 
friends, was a lovely girl of seventeen. She was tall 
and graceful ; bright, and full of enthusiasm ; kind, 
loving and generous. She had just returned from her 
g-randmother's plantation, for her father had not 
sooner dared to have his daughters return, such was 
the insolence of the straggling Federals. 

On the morning of September 1st, 1865, this dear girl 
arose early and noiselessly with a scheme in her kind 
heart. The former servants were all g-one ; her mother 
was not well, and she would surprise the household 



DURING THE WAIt. 305 

by preparing- for them a nice breakfast. In fanc^^ we 
see her, as she treads lig-htl^^, and chats softl}^ with 
her tin}' half-sister Jennie, and with a little neg-ro 
g-irl who in some way had remained with the family. 

The Durham residence, which was on Sycamore 
street, then stood just eastward of where Col. G. W. 
Scott now lives. The rear of the house faced the site 
where the depot had been before it was burned by the 
Federals, the distance being* about 350 yards. Hearing- 
an incoming train, Sallie went to the dining.room win- 
dow to look at the cars, as she had learned in some way 
that they contained Federal troops. While standing- 
at the window resting- against the sash, she was struck 
by a bullet fired from the train. (It was afterwards 
learned that the cars were filled with neg-ro troops on 
their way to Savannah, who were firing- off their guns 
in a random, reckless manner.) The ball entered the 
left breast of this dear young- girl, rang-ing- obliquely 
downward, coming out just below the waist, and lodg-- 
ing- in the door of a safe, or cupboard, which stood on 
the opposite side of the room. (This old safe, with 
the mark of the ball, is still in the villag-e.) 

The wounded g-irl fell, striking her head against 
the dining- table, but arose, and walking- up a long- 
hall she threw open the door of her father's room, 
calling to him in a voice of distress. Spring-ing- from 
bed, he said : 

''What is it, my child?" 

"Oh, father," she exclaimed, "the Yankees have 
killed me ! " 

Laying- her upon a small bed in the room, her 
father cut away from her chest her homespun dress 



306 LIFE IX DIXIE 

and made a hasty examination of the wound. Her 
horror-stricken mother remembers to this day that 
awful scene in all its details. But we will draw a veil 
over the g-rief of the smitten family, as they stood 
half paralyzed at this sudden calamity, and looked 
upon the loved one whom they were helpless to save. 
Mrs. Durham recalls the fact that the first person who 
came in was Rev. Dr. Holmes, and that throug-hout 
this great trial he and his family were very sympa- 
thetic and helpful. 

Every physician in the villag-e and city, and her 
father's three brothers were summoned, but nothing- 
could be done except to alleviate her sufferings. She 
could lie only on her rig-ht side, with her left arm in 
a sling suspended from the ceiling-. Kvery attention 
was g-iven by relatives and friends. Her grandmother 
Durham came and brought with her the old family 
trained nurse. Sallie's schoolmates and friends were 
untiring in their attentions. Some names that have 
appeared in previous sketches, will now appear again, 
for they watched with anxious, loving- hearts b}' the 
couch where the young- sufferer lay. Tenderly let us 
mention their names, as we tread softly in memor3''s 
sacred halls. Among- the constant attendants at her 
bedside were Mrs. Martha Morgan, Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. 
Morton, Miss Laura Williams (Mrs. J. J. McKoy), 
Ivizzie and Anna Morton, Mrs. H. H. Chivers, Dr. Jim 
Brown and John Hardeman. During the week that 
her life slowly ebbed away, there was another who 
ever lingered near her, a sleepless and tireless watch- 
er, a young man of a well-known famil}^ to whom 
this sweet young- girl was engaged to be married. 



DVRING THE WAB. 307 

Writes Mrs. P. W. Corr, of Hampton, Florida, 
(formerly Miss Lizzie Morton): " Never can I forg-et 
the dreary- nig-ht when Willie Durham, Kitty Durham 
and Warren Morton left Decatur with Sallie's body, 
which was to be buried in the old family cemetery in 
Clarke county. Mrs. Durham, who was in delicate 
health, was utterly prostrated and the doctor could 
not leave her." So Dr. Charles Durham managed the 
funeral arrang-ements, chartering- the car, and Sallie 
was buried from the old church her g-randfather Lowe 
had built on his own plantation in Clarke county, and 
laid to rest in the Durham cemeter}^ near by. 

Sallie was shot on Friday at 7 : 30 a. m., and died 
the following- Friday at 3:30 a. m. While she had 
suffered untold ag-on}^ she was conscious to the last. 
Throughout her illness she manifested a thoughtful 
consideration for the comfort of others. Especially 
did she show tender solicitude for her step-mother, 
insisting that she should not fatigue herself. While 
anxious to live, she said she was not afraid to die. In 
her closing hours she told her friends, that she saw 
her own mother, her grandfather Durham, and her 
uncle Henry Durham (who had died in the Confeder- 
ate service), all of whom she expected to meet in the 
bright beyond. 

General Stephenson was in command of the Fed- 
eral Post at Atlanta. He was notified of this trag- 
edy, and sent an officer to investigate. This officer 
refused to take anybody's word that Sallie had been 
shot by a United States soldier from the train ; but, 
dressed in full uniform, with spur and sabre rattling 
upon the bare floor, he advanced to the bed where the 



308 LIFE IN DIXIE 

dying- g-irl lay, and threw back the covering- " to see if 
she had really been shot." This intrusion almost 
threw her into a spasm. This officer and the others 
at Atlanta promised to do all in their power to bring- 
the g-uilty party to justice, but nothing- ever came of 
the promise, so far as we know. 

As a sing-ular coincidence, as well as an illustra- 
tion of the lovely character of Sallie, I will relate a 
brief incident g-iven by the g-ifted pen already quoted 
from : " One of the most vivid pictures of the past 
in my memor}' is that of Sallie Durham emptying- her 
pail of blackberries into the hands of Federal pris- 
oners on a train that had just stopped for a moment 
at Decatur, in 1863. We had all been g-athering- ber- 
ries at Moss's Hill, and stopped on our way home for 
the train to pass." 

Dr. W. W. Durham lived for nearly twenty 3^ears 
after Sallie's death. During- the war he had enlisted 
as a soldier, but was commissioned by Dr. Georg-e S. 
Blackie, a Medical Director in the Western Division 
of the Confederate Army, to the position of Inspector 
of Medicines for the Fifth Depot. This position 
was g-iven him because of his remarkable botanical 
knowledg-e and power of identifying- medicines. After 
the war he was prominent in the reorg-anization of the 
Georg-ia Medical Eclectic Colleg-e, but refused to take a 
professorship on account of an almost overwhelming- 
practice. He was a quiet, earnest, thoug-htful man ; 
and hig-hly sympathetic and benevolent in his disposi- 
tion. His widow, Mrs. Georg-ia A. Durham, and 
their daug-hter, Mrs. Jennie Findley, still reside in 
Decatur. 



nUBING THE WAR. 309 

Dr. W. M. Durham is a successful physician in 
Atlanta. He holds a professorship in the Georg-ia 
Eclectic Medical Colleg-e, and edits the Georg-ia Eclec- 
tic Medical Journal. Kitty is Mrs. W. P. Smith, of 
Maxey's ; and John L. Durham is a physician with a 
large practice, and a larg^e family, living* at Wood- 
ville, Georgia. 

The Durham residence still stands in Decatur, 
though not upon the same spot. For years a great 
stain of blood remained upon the floor, as a grim and 
silent reminder of this most awful tragedy which so 
closely followed the horrible and cruel war. 



310 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE DEATH OF MELVILLE CLARK. 

The lamented death of Miss Durham was not the 
only one in our community to be traced to the results 
of the war. 

The period of reconstruction, forcing- upon the 
Southern states the obnoxious Fourteenth Amend- 
ment, so humiliating- and so unjust, especially at 
that time, had intensified the prejudices of the 
neg-roes ag-ainst the white people — prejudices already 
sufficiently aroused b}' previous abolition teaching's 
and the results of the war. 

Several times in this little volume mention has 
been made of Rev. William Henr}^ Clarke, the staunch 
patriot and well known Methodist preacher. At this 
period he had become a resident of Decatur. His son, 
Melville Clarke, a noble, promising- boy, while at- 
tempting- to rescue a small white child from the abuse 
of an overg-rown negro 3'outh, received wounds from 
which he died. Memory recalls many other instances 
of like character, perpetrated at this period, the most 
disg-raceful in the annals of American history. 

The subjoined resolutions, passed b}^ the Methodist 

Sabbath school of which Melville was a beloved 

scholar, attest the many g-ood traits of his character, 

and the affection accorded him in the community : 

" The committee appointed to draft resolutions on 



nUEING THE WAR. 311 

the death of Melville Clarke, one of our scholars, beg- 
leave to submit the following-: 

"In the wise dispensation of Him that doeth all 
thing-s well, we are called to pay the last tribute to 
departed worth. Melville Clark is no more. The va- 
cant seat sa3^s he is no more. The hushed voice sa^^s 
he is no more. Yes, the impressive, solemn silence of 
this moment whispers that another lig-ht which shone 
brig-htly the brief space allotted it here has flickered 
out. The body which encased the spirit of the noble 
Christian boy has been laid away in the silence of the 
g-rave, and his spirit, as we trust, escorted by a con- 
voy of ang-els, has g-one to that bright and better 
world above. 

''Therefore, Resolved, That as we g-ather around the 
new-made g-rave and drop a sympathetic tear (which 
speaks more eloquently than any words mortal lips 
can utter), we deeply feel the loss of one so full of 
promise and usefulness — that noble spirit just burst- 
ing- into manhood, with a mind that would grasp in a 
moment things that men have passed through life and 
never comprehended— and a heart lit up with the love 
of God, and drawn out by the tenderest cords of affec- 
tion to do little acts of kindness. Language fails us 
to give utterance to the anguish we feel at sustaining 
so great a loss. But he has gone. No more shall we 
hang upon the eloquence of his gentle, kind words, or 
see that face which was so often lit up with an ex- 
pressive sweetness that we could but recognize as the 
reflex of the lamb-like Christian spirit that reigned 
within. He has gone, and as we turn from the sad, 
solemn scene in that faith which ' hopeth all things, 



312 LIFE IN DIXIE 

believeth all thing-s, endureth all things,' we can but 
exclaim : ' The Lord gave — the Lord hath taken 
awaj — blessed be the name of the Lord !' 

^'Resolved, That in the death of one of our mem- 
bers, so young, we recognize an admonition that the 
young, as well as the old, are swiftly passing awa}^ 
and that we should pause and reflect seriously upon 
this important subject. 

'^Resolved, That as a school, our warmest s^^mpathy 
and condolence be tendered to the family of our dear 
deceased friend in this, their great bereavement, and 
that a copy of these resolutions be furnished them." 
Dr. Avery, ] 

John N. Path, | ^^ ... 

Captain Randali,, Committee 
J. R. Hampton, J 
August 30th, 1868. 



DURING THE WAR. 313 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE MORTON FAMILY. 

Incidents thrilling and affecting. 

In several previous sketches references have been 
made to the Misses Morton. Not only they, but the 
whole family, bore an interesting- and heroic part in 
the scenes of the war. Mr. Edward L. Morton 
hoisted the first Confederate flag- that ever floated on 
the breeze in DeKalb county. This he did as soon as 
he heard that Georg-ia had passed the ordinance of 
secession. A few miles from Decatur there was a 
larg-e mill known as Williams's Mill, situated on 
Peachtree Creek. At the terminus of the bridg-e that 
spanned the creek, near the little hamlet, there g-rew 
a tall, g-raceful Lombardy poplar tree. The flag- had 
been made by Mrs. Morton, Mrs. James Hunter, and 
other ladies who lived in the neig-hborhood, cind was 
hoisted by Mr. Morton from the top of the lofty pop- 
lar. When the Federals came in they cut down the 
tree, but another has g-rown from its roots. 

Mr. Morton enlisted with the first company that 
went from DeKalb, but returned and org-anized one of 
his own— Company F, 36th Georg-ia. From this 
command he was sent home on account of lung- 
trouble, and placed on special duty. When Hood fell 
back to Atlanta, Captain Morton joined White's 
Scouts, a picked band of men. He was also at one 
time Morg-an's g-uide. 

21 



314 LIFE IN DIXIE 

After Mr. J. W. Kirkpatrick refug-eed, his home on 
Atlanta street was occupied bj Captain Morton's fam- 
ily. Here some stirring- incidents occurred. Says one 
of his daug-hters: " Pa tried to avoid coming- within 
the Yankee lines, but did several times g-et caug-ht at 
home, owing- to his extreme weakness. Finally, after 
the 23d Army Corps wa.s sent back to Tennessee, a 
raiding- party of Federals went out toward Stone 
Mountain, were fired on a few miles from Decatur, 
and several killed. They were furious when they 
g-ot to our house (on their return). Here they 
found one of ' White's Men ' (Pa) ill in bed. They 
held a court-martial and sentenced him to be hang-ed 
as soon as they finished eating- dinner. Meanwhile 
they left a g-uard in his bed-room. Ma asked the 
guard to sit in the parlor and leave them alone the 
short time he had to live. The g-uard was a kind- 
hearted man, the house surrounded, the whole detach- 
ment eating and feeding their horses on all sides, and 
Pa was very feeble; so the guard sat in the parlor." 
Captain Morton then disguised himself, armed him- 
self, and, passing out a side door, went unchallenged 
through the crowd of soldiers, by Woodall's tan-yard 
and out into the woods. Continues his daughter : 
"But when the guard thought he had better see the 
prisoner, it was discovered that he was gone. They 
talked of burning the house and made many other 
threats. For along time we did not know whether he 
had escaped or died in the woods. * * * ]S[o man 
that served in the Confederate army more truly laid 
down his life for the cause than did my father. He 
never recovered from the lung trouble brought on and 



DURING THE WAR. 315 

aggravated by the exposure and hardships he endured 
between '61 and '65." 

Warren Morton went into the army at the tender 
age of fifteen, as a private in his father's company. 
He was in the siege of Vicksburg — was paroled, and 
re-entered the army in Cumming's Brigade — and was 
shot at Kennesaw, near Marietta, while acting as 
Sergeant-Major on Hood's retreat. The ball struck 
the bone of the outer angle of the left eye, cutting 
away the temple plate, and came out just over the 
ear, cutting off the upper half of the ear. The torn 
nerves and arteries have always caused him pain. 
The bullet, while it did not touch his eye-ball, para- 
lyzed the optic nerve on that side. The hardships 
endured when a growing boy, the long marches in 
Kentucky, the starvation rations in Vicksburg, and 
the horrible wound, ruined his constitution. Yet he 
has been an energetic man, and is living now on a 
farm near Newnan. 

The young ladies — girls they all were at the time of 
which I write — were Lizzie, Anna, Kelly, Fannie and 
Eddie. 

On the day that Wheeler's Cavalry routed the Fed- 
eral wagon train at Decatur, Lieutenant Farrar of the 
63d Ohio Regiment was killed on a meadow neeir Mrs. 
Swanton's residence, just opposite Mrs. Morton's. 
There was also another Federal, a mere lad, who was 
mortally wounded. In some way I discovered the 
d3ang boy, and, after carrying him some water, I left 
him to the care of the nearer neighbors. Mrs. James 
Hunter, Mrs. Morton and her daughters cared for him 
as best they could, and sat by him until he died. 



316 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Miss Lizzie Morton cut from his head a lock of hair 
and wrote some verses, which Mrs. Swanton kindly 
sent to his people in Dayton, Ohio. In some way this 
became known to the Federal of&cers, and future 
developments showed that this tender act was much 
appreciated by them. 

On the morning- of the 22nd of July, 1864, Mrs. 
Morton sat on the front steps watching for an officer 
to whom she might appeal for protection. "Very early 
General McPherson and his staff rode by. Mrs. Mor- 
ton ran out and called. General McPherson alighted 
from his horse, heard her story, bare-headed, with 
his hat in hand, wrote an order and dispatched it, and 
then mounting, rode away to his death." That order 
was to station a guard at the house, and it was never 
disregarded as long as the Federal line was near. 
This the family have always attributed to their caring 
for the dead, and to the kind order of General 
McPherson. 

On the night of the 21st, Mrs. Morton had been 
badly frightened by some Federal soldiers coming to 
her house with the accusation that her young 
daughter "had given information that had led to the 
capture of their wagon train." Threats of burning 
the residence were made by the Federals on several 
occasions. The family feel persuaded that Bill Pitt- 
man, a faithful negro, a sawyer who had lived many 
3'ears at Williams's Mill, prevented these threats from 
being put into execution. 

Soon after the close of the war Captain Morton 
and his family went to Mississippi. Here he died, 
and one after another four of the girls, Anna, Kelly, 



DURING THE WAB. 317 

Fanny, and Eddie. Most touching-ly Lizzie (Mrs. P. 
W. Corr) writes : " When my sister and I were little 
g-irls in Decatur, we were very fond of private literary 
entertainments. Anna's favorite declamation (which 
always brought down the house) was : 

' They grew in beauty side by side 

Around one parent knee ; 
Their graves are scattered far and wide 
O'er mountain, plain, and sea.' 

"Anna sleeps alone near an old church in Scott 
county, Mississippi ; Kelly, alone at Pickens ; Pa, 
Fanny and Eddie side by side at Shiloh, in Holmes 
county." Anna married Mr. Kearney ; Kelly, Mr. W. 
S. Cole. Mrs. Morton is still living- in the home of 
her daughter Lizzie, who married Rev. P. W. Corr, of 
Hampton, Florida. Mrs. Corr is very happily mar- 
ried, being fond and proud of her husband, and her 
children filling her heart with comfort and pleasure. 
To crown her earthly blessings, her mother has been 
spared to her in all life's changing scenes. 

Here in her happy Florida home we leave our erst- 
while lassie of the war times — now an earnest wife and 
mother, busy ever with home duties, and also a true 
helpmeet to her husband in his ministerial and edito- 
rial labors. 

This sketch, with its incidents, both heroic and 
pathetic, cannot be more appropriately concluded than 
by the touching words of Mrs. Corr in a recent letter : 
"What you say of the 'empty places' is full of sug- 
gestiveness. I think I never could have borne my 
losses and still have moved about among the ' empty 



318 • LIFE IN DIXIE 

places.' But going- always among* strang-ers after 
every loss, being- removed at once from the scene of 
death and not passing- that way ag-ain, my sisters live 
in memory as part of the past, always merry, happy 
g-irls, never to g-row heart-weary, never to fade. We, 
wandering- among- strang-ers in strang-e and unfamiliar 
scenes, have kept the memor}^ of our old Decatur 
home and friends intact. There are no empty places 
there for us. 

" It seems sweet to me to think that in that home 
to which we are all traveling-, we shall find that those 
dear ones who have preceded us have carried with 
them that same brig-ht and precious picture, which, 
however, is not there a picture of memory, but a real- 
ity of which the earthly circle was only a shadow or 
prophecy ; and the only empty places there are those 
which shall be filled when we g-et home. Something- 
there is in the friendships, even, of other days, that 
has never died — something that will live again — a 
root planted here that there blossoms and fruits eter- 
nally. How much more true is this — it must be so — 
of those who were heart of our hearts, our own loved 
ones. I doubt not that for one sad longing thought 
of 'brother, mother, nephew,' all that you have loved 
and lost, they have had many sweet and loving 
thoughts of you, and joyful anticipations of 3^our com- 
ing home 'Some Sweet Day.'" 



BVBIISO THE WAli. 319 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

HON. JOSEPH K. BKOWN'S PIKKS AND GUNS. 

(This chapter, and the succeeding- one, were not placed in 
the chronological order of events, because they would have 
broken the continuity of personal experiences). 

After an appeal to physical force, as the only 
means of redressing- our wrong's, was fully determined 
upon, we made many important discoveries, chief of 
which was that we were not prepared for war. This 
fact had often been impressively and earnestly set 
forth by our g-reatest statesmen, Alexander Hamilton 
Stephens and Benjamin Harvey Hill, who, thoug-h 
reared in different schools of politics, were fully 
ag-reed upon this point, and who urg-ed, with all the 
eloquence of patriotism and profound understanding- 
of existing facts, the importance of delaying- the act 
of seceding- from the United States until we were bet- 
ter prepared for the mig-hty consequences— either ben- 
eficial or disastrous. In no way was the wisdom of 
this advice made more apparent than by our utter 
want of the appliances of warfare on land and on sea. 

The ordinance of secession having- been enacted, 
Georg-ia found itself confronted by the scarcity of 
guns and other munitions of warfare. Hon. Joseph 
E. Brown, our war Governor, finding- it impossible to 
secure even shot-g-uns to equip .the many regiments 



320 LIFE IN DIXIE 

eag-er for the fraj, conceived the idea of arming- them 
with pikes ; and, undaunted by the Herculean under- 
taking-, put a larg-e force of the best blacksmiths at 
the W. & A. R. R. shops to making- these primitive 
weapons. To whose fertile brain belongs the honor 
of evolving the plan or diagram by which they were 
to be made, has never been revealed to the writer. 
The blade of the pike was to be about 16 inches long 
and 2 inches wide, with a spur of about 3 inches on 
either side, all of which was to be ground to a sharp 
edge. The shank was to be about 12 inches long, and 
arranged to rivet in a staff 6 feet long. 

In the memorable year, 1861, J. C. Peck owned a 
planing mill and general wood-working shop on Deca- 
tur street, Atlanta, Ga., on the grounds now occupied 
by the Southern (old Richmond and Danville) R. R. 
freight depot. There being no machinery at the 
railroad shops suitable for turning the handles nor 
grinding the pikes, Mr. Peck contracted to grind and 
supply with handles the entire number — he thinks ten 
thousand. Before he finished this work, Governor 
Brown called a meeting of the mechanics of Atlanta 
for the purpose of ascertaining if some arrangement 
could be made for the manufacture of guns for the 
army. This meeting was adjourned two or three times, 
and no one seemed willing to undertake the job. At 
the last meeting a letter was received from the Ord- 
nance Department of the Confederate States, containing- 
a "drawing" of a short heavy rifle to be supplied 
with a Tripod rest, and an urgent request that the 
Governor would encourage the making of twenty-five 
guns after this pattern, as soon as possible. A liberal 



DURING THE WAB. 321 

premium for the sample was offered b}^ the Confede- 
rate Ordnance Department. The barrels were to be 
thirty inches long- with one inch bore, and rifled with 
three g-rooves, so as to make one complete revolution 
in the thirt}^ inches. As no one else would undertake 
this complicated job, Mr. Peck asked for the "draw- 
ing*," and announced his willing-ness to do so. He 
discovered that it would require iron % by 4>^ or 5 
inches to make the barrels, and for this purpose he 
procured enoug^h Swede iron at a hardware store on 
Whitehall street to make thirty barrels. He also 
discovered that the common Smith bellows would not 
yield a blast sufficient to secure welding- heat on so 
larg-e a piece, and it was sug-g-ested that it could be 
done at W. & A. R. R. shops; he therefore secured an 
order from Governor Brown authorizing- this import- 
ant work to be done there under his instruction. An 
old German smith, whom Mr. Peck found at the shops, 
rendered him valuable aid in the accomplishment of 
this portion of the work. As rapidly as the welding- 
was done he had them carried to his shop, and a wood- 
turner, Mr. W. L. Smith, bored them on a wood turn- 
ing- lath. This was a difficult job, as the boring- bits 
caug-ht in the irreg-ular hole and broke ; finally he de- 
vised a sort of rose bit which steadied itself, and he 
had no further trouble. After successfully accom- 
plishing- this portion of the work, Mr. Peck found him- 
self confronted by another difficulty. He had no way 
of turning- iron, but his indomitable will shrank not 
from the task, and he threw out a search-lig-ht 
which enabled him to discern a Savag-e, who had been 
superintendent of Pitts & Cook's g-in factory, and he 



322 LIFE IN DIXIE 

eng-ag-ed him to turn it. Mr. Peck then employed an 
ingenious blacksmith, who did to his satisfaction all 
the smith work he wanted. He made his own taps 
and dies for fitting- the breech pieces, putting in the 
nipples, etc., and forced the hammers, trig-gers, ram- 
rods, etc. The brass mounting's were cast hj Gullatte 
Brothers, who at that time were running a brass 
foundr3^ The locks were purchased b}^ Mr. Peck in 
Macon, but, as already intimated, had to be supplied 
with new hammers and triggers. As the plan called 
for the barrels to be rifled with three g-rooves, and to 
make one complete rev^olution in the leng-th of the 
barrel, there was none in the employ of Mr. Peck who 
had any idea how it was to be done. Much perplexed 
he went to Mr. Charles Heinz, the gunsmith on 
Whitehall street, who explained the process of rifling- 
done by hand. On this idea Mr. Peck constructed 
a machine which he attached to a Daniels planer. 
This was a wood machine, with a bed which traA^eled 
backward and forward, similar to the bed of an iron 
planer— in such a manner that the backward and for- 
ward motion of the bed g-ave, also, a rotary motion to 
the cutters. By this process each barrel was rifled 
precisely alike. Mr. Peck had thirty barrels forg-ed, 
but some of them were defective and would not bore 
through without breaking-, and some were burnt in 
testing. Only twenty-five of them were finished. He 
had an abundance of walnut lumber and did not have 
to contend with any obstacle in making the stocks, but 
some in clamping them to the barrels. The plan also 
showed the usual screw in the extension of the breech 
pin, and two bands similar to those on the old style 



DURING THE WAR. 823 

musket. Mr. Peck forg-ed iron bands, but with his 
best effort at finishing them they appeared clumsy. 
Opportunely he chanced to see a wag-on on Pryor 
street containing a lot of hardware and other things, 
among which was a large brass kettle. Thinking he 
could make bands out of this vessel, he purchased it 
and cut it up into those indispensable parts of his fam- 
ous job, but another obstacle to success presented itself 
to his patient vision. He could find no one to braze 
the joints. By reference to his "Mechanic's Compan- 
ion" he learned the art, and brazed the bands in a skill- 
ful style. This being, done, he gave his finishing 
touches to the rifles. 

The balls were like minie-balls, one inch in diame- 
ter, and two and one-fourth inches long, and weighed 
four ounces. Mr. Peck made only one set of bullet 
moulds, which run two bullets at the same time, and 
he thinks he made only six of the tripod rests. They 
were — every lock, stock and barrel — tested by several 
persons expert in the handling of muskets, rifles, shot- 
guns, etc., among whom was Mr. Charles Heinz, 
still living in Atlanta, and who will vouch for the 
accuracy of this important item of Confederate his- 
tory, and the utility of the shot emanating from these 
wonderful guns. To put it mildly, the effect was 
almost equal to that of a six-pounder. And the recoil ! 
Well ! Wonderful to relate ! They must have had 
infused into their mechanism supernatural or national 
prescience, and peering through the dim vista of the 
future saw the beacon light of a re-united country, 
and disdained partiality in the Fratricidal Contest, for 



324 LIFE IN DIXIE 

every time one of them was shot at a "Yankee," it 
kicked a " Rebel " down. 

P.S. — Mr. Peck has the orig-inal "drawing-" sent 
on from the Ordnance Department at Richmond, and 
also the receipt for the payment for the barrels. He 
also has a letter from the Chief of Ordnance at Wash- 
ing-ton, D. C, informing- him that the identical g-uns 
described in the above sketch had been found in his 
department, and that two of them would be exhibited 
in the Government Building- of the Piedmont Exposi- 
tion, Atlanta, Georg^ia, in 1895. 



DUBING THE WAR. 325 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE PURSUIT AND CAPTURE OF THE ANDREWS RAIDERS. 

Captain William A. Fuller and his comrades of the pursuit. — 
The race of the engines, "The General " and "The Texas." 

In the early part of 1862 the army of the Cumber- 
land and also that of the Tennessee had g-rown to 
g-igantic proportions. The history of that memorable 
era establishes the fact that in the month of February 
of that year the army of the Cumberland, commanded 
by General Buell, had captured Fort Donaldson and 
several other strong- strateg-ic points on the Tennessee 
and Mississippi Rivers. Numerically the Federal 
Army was so much stronger than the Confederate 
that large detachments could easily be made for incur- 
sions into the interior and unprotected sections of 
middle and West Tennessee, while the main army 
steadily advanced down the Mississippi Valley. By 
the first of April, General Mitchell had occupied Shel- 
byville and other cities, including Nashville ; and the 
larger towns and railroad stations in the neighbor- 
hood South and East of Nashville had been occupied 
by the Federals. 

Recognizing the importance of saving to the Con- 
federate cause everything necessary to sustain life 
both of man and beast, all that could be brought out 
of Kentucky and Tennessee had been sent South — to 



326 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Atlanta and other important points — so that those 
States were literally stripped of all surplus food. 

The army of the Tennessee, under the command 
of General Albert Sidney Johnston, soug-ht to meet 
General Buell and dispute his further advance. 
Corinth, Mississippi, was selected by General Johnston 
as a point beyond which the army of the Cumberland 
should not g-o. This position commanded the Mem- 
phis and Charleston Railroad, as well as others run- 
ning- south of that point. By the fifth of April Gen- 
eral Buell's army had massed at Pittsburg Landing-, 
and along a line reaching south and parallel to that 
of General Johnston. Relatively the armies stood 
about five to eig-ht, the Confederate of course being- 
the smaller. They met in battle on the 6th day of 
April at Shiloh, so-called by the Federals, but South- 
ern historians call it the battle of Corinth. The fight 
was a long- and disastrous one — disastrous to both 
armies — but the Federals, having an unbounded sup- 
ply of everything needed in war, and being- immedi- 
ately strengthened by larg-e reinforcements which lit- 
erally poured in, were enabled to rapidl}- recuperate. 
The Confederates lost heavily in killed and wounded, 
and suffered irreparably by the death of General 
Albert Sidney Johnston. The loss of this noble man 
was deeply felt and regretted by the entire South. 
The week following this horrible carnage was mainly 
taken up by both armies in bur^dng the dead, caring- 
for the wounded, fortifying, receiving reinforcements 
and maneuvering for advantag-eous positions. 

General Mitchell, as already stated, had occupied 
Shelbyville, and had a considerable force. Some 



DURING THE WAR. 327 

cavalry had penetrated as far south-east as Chatta- 
nooga, and had several times dropped a few shell into 
that town. 

After the death of General Johnston the Confederate 
Army at Corinth was put under the command of 
General Beaureg"ard. There were small detachments 
of Confederate troops distributed along- the Memphis 
and Charleston Railroad to Stephenson, and from 
there to Chattanooga ; also from Chattanooga to 
Bristol, on the East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad, 
and on the Virginia and Tennessee. These were 
to guard the railroad bridges, depots, and government 
stores, etc. General Ledbetter was stationed at Chat- 
tanooga with about three thousand men. There was 
a tolerably strong guard at London bridge, where the 
East Tennessee railroad crosses the Tennessee river ; 
and General E. Kirby Smith occupied Knoxville, with 
a sufficient force to protect that important point as 
against General Morgan in his immediate front with 
a strong force. East Tennessee was very nearly 
evenly divided between Federals and Confederate 
sympathizers. Neither side was safe from betrayal. 
Those who were true to the Southern cause dis- 
tinguished themselves as officials and soldiers, and those 
who were recreant to it were a source of great annoy- 
ance and disaster ; and this applies to Kentucky and 
West Virginia as well. During the month of April, 
1862, Brownlow, and those of his opinion, were 
arrested, and imprisoned in Knoxville. 

The strict rules of the passport sj^stem had not yet 
been adopted by southern army commanders, and it was 
no difficult matter for friend or foe to pass the lines. 



328 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Thus matters stood at that time. The reader, 
therefore, may be prepared to appreciate one of the 
most exciting-, thrilling- and interesting- stories of the 
Civil Contest. 

The Western and Atlantic Railroad (often called 
the State Road) at the time discussed in the preceding- 
pag-es, was the only line of communication between 
the southern centre of the Confederate States and the 
Army of Tennessee. It was worthy of notice that 
this road was not paralleled by any of the roads now 
in existence. The Memphis and Charleston Railroad 
came into the Nashville and Chattanoog-a at Steven- 
son as now, and the latter road reached from Nashville 
to Chattanoog-a. The Kast Tennessee and Georg-ia 
Road also came into Chattanoog-a then as now, and 
also into Dalton. These three railroad lines were 
"the feeders" for the Western and Atlantic Railroad 
at Chattanoog-a and Dalton. At the south or Atlanta 
end of that line we had the old Macon & Western 
(now the Georg-ia Central), the Atlanta and West 
Point, and the Georg-ia Railroad, as feeders for the 
Western and Atlantic, which reached from Atlanta 
via Dalton to Chattanoog-a. As has been stated, the 
Army of Tennessee, under General Beauregard at 
Corinth, the army under General K. Kirby Smith at 
Knoxville, the army under General Ledbetter at Chat- 
tanoog-a, and all detailed men on dut}^ along- the whole 
front of the Confederates from Corinth to Bristol, 
depended upon this sing-le line (the old reliable Wes- 
tern and Atlantic Railroad) for army supplies. There 
was no other road in the whole distance of eig-ht hun- 
dred miles, reaching from Mobile, Alabama, to Rich- 



DURING THE WAR. 329 

mond, Virg-inia, that ran north and south. These facts 
were well known to northern commanders, and it has 
always seemed strange that the road should have been 
so unprotected. The many bridges on the Western 
and Atlantic were guarded at the time under consid- 
eration, April 1862, by a single watchman at. each 
bridge, and he was employed by the railroad authori- 
ties. The bridges were of the Howe Tress pat- 
tern, weatherboarded with common wooden boards, 
and covered .with shingles. They were exceedingly 
inflammable and could easily have been set on fire. 

One of the rules for the running of the trains was 
that "if any two trains failed to make the meeting 
point they would be considered irregular trains, and 
the conductor of each train should be required to send 
a flagman ahead, and thus proceed until the two flag- 
men met." This cumbersome rule frequently occa- 
sioned great disorder, and sometimes many trains of 
all grades were massed together at one station. 
Railroad men will understand this condition of affairs. 
These things were known and understood not only by 
the Confederates, but by the Federals through their 
spies. J. J. Andrews especially understood them, as 
the sequel will prove. 

It is beyond the scope of this article to discuss the 
plans adopted by Captain J. J. Andrews and his 
twenty-two auxiliaries, to descend into the heart of 
the South ; suffice it to say, their plans were success- 
ful, and they passed the Confederate lines and entered 
the pretty town of Marietta, twenty miles north of 
Atlanta, unmolested and unsuspected. The solving 
of the mystery will appear at the proper time, For 



330 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

present purposes it is enough to state that they not 
only entered the town mentioned, but boarded the 
north-bound train on the morning- of April 12th, 1862. 
The well-known and intrepid Captain William A. 
Fuller was the conductor in charg*e of that train — the 
now celebrated "General" was his eng-ine — and Jeff 
Cain his eng-ineer. There was nothing- suspicious in 
the environments of the occasion. In those days it 
was not unusual, even in a country town, for a large 
number of men to board a train, and they were com- 
ing in from all over the country to join the Confeder- 
ate army. 

There was a Camp of Instruction at Big Shanty,- 
seven miles north of Marietta, and this fact, as well 
as many others more important, was known to An- 
drews, who from the beginning of the war had been 
" a commercial traveller," " in full sympathy with the 
South," and had ridden over this line many times. 
The conductor, therefore, took up the tickets as usual, 
some to one point and some to another, but the most 
of them to Big Shanty. The raiders were dressed in 
various st3'les and appeared like a good class of coun- 
trymen. They claimed to be "refugees from beyond 
the Lincoln lines." 

Big Shanty was a mere station, having only one or 
two business houses, and noted by the traveling public 
as having a most excellent "eating-house" for the 
accommodation of the passenger trains. When Cap- 
tain Fuller's train arrived at Big Shant}^ the passen- 
gers and train hands went into the hotel for breakfast. 
The absence from the table of the large crowd that 
got on the train at Marietta was noticed by the con- 



DURING THE WAR. 331 

ductor, and just as he took his seat, which commanded 
a view of his train, the g-ong- on the old " General " 
rang-. It should be stated here that the train was as 
follows : "The general," three freight cars, one sec- 
ond and two first-class coaches, a baggage car and 
express car. Andrews had detached the entire pas- 
senger train, put his surplus men into the three 
freight cars, and on " The General " he had with him- 
self his own engineer and fireman. 

The very moment the gong rang Captain Fuller 
sprang from the table, and with a swift run reached 
the main track and pursued the flying train, which 
was now fast disappearing around a curve in the road. 
As he ran out of the hotel Captain Fuller called to his 
engineer, Jeff Cain : "Some one who has no right to 
do so has taken our train !" Cain and Mr. Anthony 
Murphy joined in the race, but were soon distanced 
by the fleet-footed Fuller. The limestone soil between 
the tracks was wet and clung to his feet so that fast 
running was very fatiguing to Captain Fuller, but he 
ran with a determination that overcame all obsta- 
cles. Moon's Station, a little more than two miles 
from Big Shanty, was reached hj him in an incredi- 
bly short time. Here he found that the Andrews 
raiders had stopped and had taken all of the tools from 
the railroad section hands. They had climbed the 
telegraph poles, cut the wire, and carried a hundred 
feet of it along with them to prevent the repair of the 
line in time to thwart their plans. The track hands 
were amazed at their conduct, and hurriedly told Cap- 
tain Fuller what had been done. Up to this time he 
had been in doubt as to the true character of the 



332 LIFE IN DIXIE 

raiders. He had thought that possibly some of the 
Confederates at Camp McDonald, ( the Camp of 
Instruction at Big- Shanty), tired of strict discipline 
and confinement, might have taken the train in order 
to enable them to pass the environment of their camp. 
But from this moment there was no room for doubt. 
As quickly as possible Captain Fuller and two track 
hands placed upon the rails an old timber car used for 
hauling crossties, iron, and other heavy material. 
This was an unwieldy and cumbersome medium of 
locomotion, but it rendered good service, nevertheless. 
Captain Puller knew that every moment of time was 
most valuable, as the raiders were speeding along up 
the road and his chances for overtaking and captur- 
ing them were very doubtful. While putting on the 
hand-car he debated with himself these questions : 
" Should he proceed immediately in the pursuit, or 
would it be best to push back and get his engineer ?" 
He decided to push back for Cain, and when he had 
gone nearly a mile he met Cain and Mr. Anthony 
Murphy. They were taken on the hand-car and the 
pursuit of the raiders, now far ahead, was begun 
again. Captain Fuller says that if he had not gone 
back, as above stated, he would have captured the 
raiders at Kingston, as more than twent}^ minutes 
were lost, and he was quite that close to them at 
Kingston. He says, however, he is now glad he did 
not do so, as the run from that point furnished the 
most thrilling event of his life, 

Murph}^ Cain, the two track hands, and Fuller, 
pushed and ran, and ran and pushed, alternately, and 
each and every man on the old hand-car did his full 



DUBING THE WAB. 333 

duty. Soon after passing- Moon's Station, where 
Captain Fuller g-ot the hand-car, the pursuers came 
upon a pile of cross-ties, but they were soon removed 
from the track and the race resumed. 

The intellig-ent reader will not for a moment sup- 
pose that Captain Fuller and his comrades entertained 
any hope of overtaking- the raiders on foot, or even by 
the hand-car. Captain Fuller's thoug-hts ran ahead 
of his surrounding-s, and he disclosed his plans to his 
comrades in these words : "If we can g-et to Etowah 
b}^ 9:40, we will catch the old Yonah. This we can 
do by ver}^ hard work, unless hindered by obstruc- 
tions." This sugg-estion doubled the energ-y of every 
man, and the}^ abandoned themselves to the task be- 
fore them. It is difficult to write, with deliberation, 
a story so full of push and haste. This run of twenty 
miles with an old clumsy hand-car, under so many 
difficulties, is replete with interest. At leng-th, after 
Captain Fuller and his comrades were thoroug-hly ex- 
hausted, standing- on the turn-table at Etowah more 
than a mile away, "the old Yonah " was espied. A 
3^ell and cry of g-reat joy went up from these g-allant 
men ; but, alas, their vision had extended beyond 
their immediate dang-er ! The raiders had removed 
an outside rail in a short curve, and unexpectedly the 
whole part}^ was thrown into a ditch full of water. 
This, however, was a small matter to men of resolute 
will and iron nerve. The car was soon carried across 
the break in the track and put upon the run ag-ain. 
One of the track hands was left to watch this break, 
to prevent dang-er to following- trains — the other was 
left with the hand-car at Etowah. Although the old 



334 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Yonah was standing- on the turn-table at Etowah, 
her tender was on another track. Willing- and eag-er 
hands soon had the eng-ine and tender coupled to- 
g-ether, and the Yonah was "pressed into service." 
An empty coal car was taken on, and a few Confed- 
erate soldiers, who were at the station waiting- for a 
south-bound train, volunteered to join in the chase. 
The eng-ineer of the Yonah, Mr. Marion Hilly, and 
his own hands, ran the Yonah from Etowah to King-- 
ston, and Captain Fuller gives them g-reat credit for 
their loyalty and faithful service. 

A more dangerous run was never made. The track 
was in a bad condition, and the line quite crooked; and 
the pursuers could not tell at what moment they 
might be thrown into a ditch by a removal of rails, or 
obstructions placed upon the track; but they were abso- 
lutely blind to all personal danger or considerations. 
The Yonah had only two drivers and they were six 
feet, and she had a very short strike. She was built for 
fast running with a small passenger train on an easy 
grade. Under all the difficulties by which he was sur- 
rounded. Hilly ran the Yonah from Etowah to Kings- 
ton, thirteen miles in fourteen minutes, and came to a 
full stop at Cartersvile, and also at Kingston. Several 
crossties had been put upon the track, but the pursuers 
said " the}^ were literally blown away as the Yonah 
split the wind." 

At Kingston, Captain Fuller learned that he was 
onl}^ twenty minutes behind the raiders. • At this point, 
Andrews had represented himself as a Confederate of- 
ficer. He told the railroad agent that he "passed 
Fuller's train at Atlanta, and that the cars which he 



DURING THE WAR. 335 

had contained fixed ammunition for General Beaure- 
g-ard at Corinth." He carried a red flag- on "The Gen- 
eral," and said that "Fuller's train was behind with 
the reg-ular passeng-er train." 

This plausible storj^ induced the agent to g-ive him 
his keys to unlock the switch at the north end of the 
King-ston railroad yard. Several heavy freight trains 
were at King-ston, bound southward. Those furthest 
behind reached a mile or so north of the switch on the 
main line. Owing- to Andrews's "fixed ammunition" 
stor}^, the ag-ent, being* a patriotic man, ordered all 
trains to pull by, so as to let Andrews out at the north 
end of the yard. This was done as quickly as possible, 
thoug-h it was difficult to make the railroad men un- 
derstand why the great haste, and why Andrews 
should be let pass at so much trouble when Fuller's 
train would soon be along-, and both could be passed at 
the same time. But Andrews's business was so urg-ent, 
and so vitally important, as a renewal of the fight be- 
tween Beauregard and Buell was expected at any hour, 
the freightmen were induced to pull by and let him out. 
This delay gave Captain Fuller an inestimable advan- 
tage, and but for the delay at Moon's Station, Andrews 
and his raiders would have been captured at Kings- 
ton. 

When Fuller arrived at Kingston on the Yonah, 
he was stopped by a flagman more than a mile south of 
the depot, on account of the trains that had pulled by 
to let Andrews out. He saw at once that he would 
have to abandon the Yonah, as he could not get her 
by without much delay. So taking to his feet again, 
he ran around those freight trains to the depot and 



336 LIFE IN DIXIE 

held a short conversation with the ag-ent from whom 
he learned the particulars of Andrews's movements 
and representations, etc. He then ran to the north 
prong" of the Rome railroad " Y," where that road in- 
tersected with the Western and Atlantic mainline. 
There he found "The Alfred Shorter," the Rome 
railroad engine, fired up and read}^ to move. He 
hurriedly told Wjley Harbin the eng-ineer of "The 
Alfred Shorter," about the raiders, and he and his 
fireman, noble fellows, at once put themselves and 
their eng-ine at his service. The pursuers were gone 
in thirty seconds. Captain Fuller says that Jeff Cain 
got into the train, but that Mr. Murphy w^ho was in 
another part of the car yard, considering some other 
plan, came near being left ; but Fuller saw him and 
held Harbin up until he ran up and got on. 

Captain Fuller rode on the cowcatcher of the 
" Shorter," that he might remove crossties and other 
obstructions that would probably be put on the track. 
Further down the road, when Andrews was running 
more at leisure, he loaded the three box cars with ties 
and other timber, and when he feared pursuit he 
punched out the rear end of his hindermost car and 
dropped obstructions in the way of his pursuers. The 
Alfred Shorter had drivers only four feet — 6 — , and 
could make only ordinary time ; but Captain Fuller 
did not consider that of any great disadvantage, as 
she ran as fast as it was safe to do on account of the 
many obstruction dropped by raiders upon that part 
of the road. 

Six miles north of Kingston, Captain Fuller found 
it necessary to abandon the "Shorter," because at 



BVBING THE WAE. 337 

that point several rails of the track had been taken 
up and carried away b}^ the raiders. Knowing- the 
schedule as he did, and seeing- he could not get by in 
less time than thirty minutes, Captain Fuller decided 
that the best thing- to be done was to g-o to Adairs- 
ville, four miles north, where he hoped to find a 
south-bound train, "tied up " because of the delay of 
his train. Possibly he mig-ht meet this train before 
reaching- Adairsville. Leaving- the "Shorter," he 
called upon all who wished to join in one more effort 
to follow him, and started in a run on foot for another 
four miles. There were none to follow— all preferred 
to remain in the Rome passenger coach. (It is not 
amiss here to state that, at King-ston, Fuller took on 
one coach belonging- to the Rome Railroad, and that 
some thirty or forty persons had volunteered and 
boarded the Rome car ; but, when invited to join in a 
four-mile foot race, they preferred to remain in the 
coach. ) 

When Fuller had run about two miles he looked 
back and saw Murphy just rounding- a curve about 
three hundred yards behind. When he had run about 
a mile further, to his great delight he met the 
expected south-bound freig-ht train. Fuller g-ave the 
sig-nal, and, having- a g-un in his hand, was recog-- 
nized by the conductor, who stopped as quickly as pos- 
sible. Fortunately Peter I. Brachen was the eng-ineer 
of the freig-ht, and had " The Texas," a Danforth & 
Cook, 5 feet 10 driver, as his eng-ine. Captain Fuller 
knew that Brachen was a cool, level-headed man, cind 
one of the best runners that ever pulled a throttle. 
As soon as the train stopped, Fuller mounted and was 



338 LIFE IN DIXIE 

about to back it, when, seeing- Murphy coming-, he held 
Brachen a few seconds until his comrade got on " The 
Texas." Then the long- train was pushed back to 
Adairsville, where Fuller chang-ed the switch, un- 
coupled the train from the engine, and pushed in upon 
the side track. In the further pursuit of the raiders. 
Captain Fuller never changed his engine or his crew 
again. 

From hence " The Texas " is after " The General " 
—both are new, both 5 feet 10 driver, with the same 
stroke— " The General " a Rogers, "The Texas" a 
Danforth & Cook. But "The General" was for- 
ward, while " The Texas " had to back. 

Captain Fuller rode on the back end of the tender, 
which was in front, and swung from corner to corner, 
so that he could see round the curves and signal to 
Brachen. His onl}^ chance to hold on was by two 
hooks, one at each corner of the tender, such as were 
formerly used to secure "spark catchers." Many 
times he bounced two feet high when the tender ran 
over obstructions not seen in time to stop the engine. 
The ten miles from Adairsville to Calhoun was made 
in twelve minutes, including the time consumed in re- 
moving- obstructions. (Here it may be in order to 
state that when Andrews had met Brachen at Adairs- 
ville, on his south-bound trip before being- met by 
Fuller, that he told him to hurry to King-ston, as 
Fuller would wait there for him. This Brachen was 
doing-, when Captain Fuller met him a mile south of 
Adairsville. But if Fuller had not met and stopped 
him, he would not have gone on to King-ston, but 
would have plung-ed into the break in the railroad 



DURING THE WAB. 339 

where the raiders had taken up the rails at the point 
where the " Shorter" was abandoned. This was one 
of Andrews' best moves. He hoped to occasion a dis- 
astrous wreck, and block the road. ) 

As Captain Fuller with "The Texas" and her 
crew fig-ure exclusivel}^ in the remainder of this won- 
derful chase, he thinks it eminentl}^ due them that 
the names of those actually eng-ag-ed on the engine 
should be given. Federal reports of the affair have 
put under the command of Fuller a reg"iment or more 
of armed soldiers. Some illustrations show long 
trains of cars packed to overflowing with armed men. 

From the time he stopped Brachen, a mile south of 
Adairsville, to the point where Andrews abandoned 
"The General," three miles north of Ringgold, he 
had with him only Peter J. Brachen as engineer, 
Henry Haney, fireman of the engine (who, at the sug- 
g-estion of Brachen, stood at the brakes of the tender, 
and had for additional leverag^e a piece of timber run 
through the spokes of the brake-wheel), Flem Cox, 
an engineer on the road, who happened to be along-, 
and fired the "Texas," and Alonzo Martin, train hand 
of the freight train left at Adairsville, who passed wood 
to Cox. Thus it is seen that Captain Fuller, Peter J. 
Brachen, Flem Cox, and Alonzo Martin were the mem- 
bers of the pursuing- party in toto, during- the last 
fifty-five miles of the chase. 

As has been stated, Mr. Anthony Murphy, of 
Atlanta, rode on "The Texas" with Brachen from 
Adairsville to the point at which the Andrews raiders 
were caug-ht, and there is no doubt he would have 



340 LIFE IN DIXIE 

aided in their capture at the forfeit of his life had he 
been called upon to do so. . 

As the pursuers ran past Calhoun, an enthusiastic 
old g-entleman, Mr. Richard Peters, himself a North- 
ern man, and who died an honored citizen of Atlanta, 
offered a reward of a liundred dollars each for all the 
raiders captured. Had this promise been fulfilled 
Captain Fuller would have received $2,300, which no 
doubt he would have divided with his comrades in the 
pursuit. 

At Calhoun Captain Fuller met the south-bound 
"day passeng-er train," dela^^ed b}^ his unexpected 
movements. He had his eng-ine run slowly b}" the 
depot, and exchang-ed a few words with the excited 
crowd of people, who were amazed at the sudden ap- 
pearance and disappearance of the runaway train 
which had passed there a few moments before. Here 
he also saw Ed Henderson, the teleg'raph operator at 
Dalton. Discovering- that the line was down below 
Dalton, Henderson had g-one down on the passeng-er 
train to try to repair the break in the wire. Seeing- 
him, Fuller reached out his hand as he was running- 
by and took the operator into the tender, and as they 
ran at the rate of a mile a minute he wrote the follow- 
ing- dispatch : 
" To General Ledbetter^ Chattanoga : 

My train was captured this morning- at Big- Shantj-, 
evidentl}^ by Federal soldiers in disguise. They are 
making- rapidly for Chattanooga, and will no doubt 
burn the Chickamauga bridges in their rear, if I should 
fail to capture them. Please see that they do not pass 
Chattanooga. Signed, W. A. Fui.i.KR." 



DURING THE WAR. 341 

He handed this dispatch to the operator, and in- 
structed him to put it through at all hazards when he 
should arrive at Dalton. 

Just at that moment the pursuers came in sight of 
the raiders for the first time. They had halted two 
miles north of Calhoun and were removing a rail from 
the track. As the pursuers hove in sight, the raiders 
detached their third car and left it before Captain 
Fuller could reach them. Coupling this abandoned 
car to " The Texas," Captain Fuller got on top of it 
and began the race again. The rails had only been 
loosened and the intrepid conductor took the chances 
of running over them. From this point the raiders 
ran at a fearful rate, and the pursuers followed after 
them as fast as "The Texas" could go. 

One mile and a half further up, the raiders de- 
tached another car in the front of the pursuers. 
This was witnessed by Fuller, who was standing on 
the rear end of the car he had coupled to when the 
raiders were first seen. He gave Brachen the si&^^'^l' 
and he advanced slowly to the abandoned car and 
coupled it to the first one obtained in this wa}- . Then 
getting on top of the newly captured one he was off 
again in the race with scarcely the loss of a moment's 
time. 

Just in front of the raiders, and not more than a 
mile away, was an important railroad bridge over the 
Oostemaula river at Resaca. The pursuers had 
greatly feared that the raiders would gain time to 
burn this bridge, after passing over it. But they 
were pressed so hotly and so closely that they passed 
over the bridge as rapidly as the "General" could carry 



342 LIFE IN DIXIE 

them. The pursuers were, therefore, greatly rejoiced 
on their arrival at Resaca to see that the bridge was 
standing, and that it had not been set on fire. The 
two cars picked up as described were switched off at 
Resaca, and the pursuers again had " The Texas" un- 
trammeled. The race from Resaca to Dalton has 
seldom been paralelled. It is impossible to describe it. 
At Dalton the telegraph operator was dropped, 
with instructions to put the dispatch to General Led- 
better through to the exclusion of all other matter. 
All was excitement at this point. The unusual 
spectacle of a wild engine flj^ing through the town 
with only one car attached was bewildering indeed ; 
and when Captain Fuller arrived and ran through, 
slacking his speed just enough to put the operator 
off the train, the excitement became intense. The 
operator was besieged on every side for an explana- 
tion, but he knew nothing save that contained in the 
dispatch. 

Two miles north of Dalton, Andrews stopped. 
Some of his men climbed telegraph poles and cut the 
wire, while others were engaged in an effort to take 
up the track behind them. The operator at 
Dalton had sent the dispatch through to Ledbetter at 
Chattanooga ; but just as he had finished and was 
holding his finger on the key, waiting for the usual 
" O. K," click went the key, and all was dead. He 
did not know until the next day that Captain Fuller's 
dispatch had reached its destination. Had the raiders 
been thirty seconds earlier in cutting the wire, the 
dispatch would not have gone through. As it was 
Ledbetter received it, and not being able to hear any- 



DURING THE WAB. 343 

thing- further by telegraph or otherwise he had a reg-i- 
ment placed in ambush (some of the soldiers on either 
side of the track), and had a considerable part of the 
track taken up. This was about a mile from Chatta- 
noog"a, so that by the intervention of the teleg*ram 
Fuller had Andrews both front and rear. 

Andrews was run away from the point where the 
wires were cut before any material damag-e was done 
to the track. The rails had been partially removed, but 
not so much as to prevent the safe passage over them 
of " The Texas " and her crew. 

Now the last long- race beg-ins. The pursued and 
the pursuers are in sig-ht of one another. In every 
straig-ht line of the road, Andrews was in plain view. 
This tended to increase the interest and excitement, if, 
indeed, the thrilling- scenes and incidents of the 
seconds as they flitted by could have been heig-htened. 
I say seconds, because minutes in this case would be 
too large to use for a unit of time. The experience, 
practice, and knowledge of machinery possessed by 
the engineers was brought into full play. "The 
Texas " was kept at a rate of one hundred and sixty- 
five pounds of steam, with the valve wide open. 
Brachen would appear a little pale sometimes, but he 
was encouraged by Fuller standing the full length of 
the tender before him, and watching around the 
curves. At every straight line in the road Andrews 
was sighted, and a yell went up from the throats of 
the pursuers, but they did not lose their wits. Their 
aim was forward, onward, at all hazards. They were 
now convinced that Andrews had exhausted his supply 
of obstructive material, and were not so uneas}^ on 



344 LIFE IN DIXIE 

that account. But as prudence is the better part of valor, 
and as they had so few men on board, they dared not 
approach too close, lest their, little band should be 
fired upon ; or what appeared to be a g-reater dang-er, 
Andrews might suddenly stop and g"ive fig-ht. Captain 
Fuller had only five person on "The Texas" besides 
himself, and all accounts heard by them at points below 
had placed Andrews's party as hig-h as twenty or 
twenty- five. Fuller knew that the fire-arms he had g"ath- 
ered up early in the race, such as " squirrel g-uns," and 
most of them unloaded, would have but little showing 
in a hand-to-hand contest; so these thing-s had to be 
considered as they sped along- so swiftly. Another 
dang-er was to be feared — Andrews mig-ht stop, aban- 
don " The General," let her drive back, and thus force 
a collision with the pursuers. 

In approaching- the tunnel, seven miles north of 
Dalton, our brave conductor slackened speed until he 
could see dimly throug-h the smoke of " The General," 
which had only passed out of the further end by a few 
seconds, and was in sig-ht beyond. For the next seven 
miles from Tunnel Hill to Ring-g-old, nothing- occurred 
except a race between eng-ines such as has never been 
excelled. When Ring-g-old was reached, both eng-ines 
literally flew throug-h the town, the "Texas" 
only about one-fourth of a mile behind. When the 
pursuers were passing- throug-h the north end of the 
town. Captain Fuller noticed a company of militia 
drilling-. Their horses were hitched to the small 
shade trees near the muster g-rounds, and this fact 
fastened itself upon his mind.. 

In a few minutes the pursuers swung- around the 



DUBING THE WAR. 345 

second short curve north of Ring-g-old, just in time to 
see Andrews slack his speed, and himself and his men 
jump off the "General" to seek concealment in the 
dense woods. The foliagfe of the trees and under- 
growth was about half g-rown, and it would have been 
an easy matter to hide in the forest. When the raiders 
were first seen north of Ring-g-old, it was obvious that 
the heroic old "General" was almost exhausted. Her 
smoke was nearly white, and ran up at an ang-le of 45 de- 
g-rees, while before that it lay flat, and appeared to the 
eyes of the pursuers as if fresh from the stack. When 
Andrews abandoned the "General," his eng-ineer threw 
the lever back and g-ave the eng-ine all the steam it had, 
but in his haste the brake was left on, so the eng-ine 
was unable to drive back and collide with the "Texas," 
as Andrews had hoped it would. 

The pursuers ran up to the " General" to which 
was attached one box car — the one historians and states- 
men have so often said was fired and left to burn in a 
bridg-e below Ring-g-old. This car had been fired, but 
was easily exting-uished. It had never been uncoupled 
from the "General" since Fuller left Atlanta with it 
that morning-. Brachen hastily coupled the "Texas" 
to this car and the "General." Captain Fuller re- 
minded Brachen of the militia company they had seen 
drilling- at Ring-g-old a few minutes before, and en- 
courag-ed him to go back there as soon as possible and 
tell of the capture of the "General," and to beseech 
the soldiers to mount their horses and come to his aid, 
as he, Flem Cox, and Alonzo Martin were already 
chasing- through the woods after Andrews and his 



23 



346 LIFE IN DIXIE 

men. Mr. Murphy and Henry Haney went back to 
Ring-crold with Brachen after the militia. 

It was probably three minutes after the "General " 
was overtaken before Captain Fuller and his two com- 
rades were ready to take to the woods, as they assisted 
in getting- the car and two engines started back to 
Ring-g-old. The raiders, therefore, had the advantage 
and were deep in the forest before the woodland chase 
began. Besides, the reader will see at once that the 
raiders were fresh— that they had done no really hard 
work, except the fireman and engineer. They had 
not already run on foot more than twenty miles, as 
Fuller had done. After the pursuing party had gone 
about two miles through the woods, they came to a 
fifty-acre wheat field just in time to see the raiders 
cross the fence at the further side. It had been rain- 
ing nearly all day, and the ground was wet. It was 
limestone soil, and almost as sticky as tar. The boots 
of the pursuers would clog up, and the mud on them 
would sometimes weigh doubtless two or three pounds. 
Another source of annoyance was the growing wheat, 
which was half leg high and very difficult to tread. 
Captain Fuller has said that it appeared to be up-hill 
every way that he ran. 

Finally the woods beyond were reached, and, by 
accident, Captain Fuller and his two comrades got 
separated. In the afternoon four of the raiders were 
captured. About 8 p. m. Captain Fuller became com- 
pletely exhausted. Some old farmers put him on a 
mule and carried him back to Ringgold, distant seven 
miles direct route, but by the one he was carried 



BUBING THE WAB. 

three times that distance. He lay down on the mul 
back, and a man on either side held him on. 

Soon after they arrived at Ring-g-old the down 
nig-ht passeng-er train came, and Captain Fuller was 
put on board and carried to Atlanta. At Tunnel 
Hill, seven miles south, a train of soldiers passed 
them on the way to the scene of interest. The An- 
drews Raiders had already been captured, and the 
"General" was safe on the side track at Ring-g-old, 
eig-ht hours before. And this train of soldiers just 
spoken of is "the second pursuing- train" that Pit- 
teng-er so often speaks of in his "Capturing- a Lo- 
comotive," and "Daring- and Suffering-." 

We have followed Captain Puller and his wise and 
intrepid men, in the pursuit of spies no less wise and 
intrepid, from the first step in an act which, under the 
usag-es of war in all countries, meant death to them if 
captured ; and over that lamentable scene we drop the 
curtain. We have the testimony of reliable men that 
they were humanely treated while in prison. After a 
trial, conducted on the highest principles of military 
law and honor, eight of these spies were condemned 
and executed. 

The following list gives the names of the Andrews 
raiders, all of whom were captured in the manner 
described : 

J. J. Andrews, John Scott, 

Wilson Brown, Perry G. Shadrack, 

Marion Ross, George D. Wilson, 

W. H. Campbell, Samuel Slavens, 

These were tried and executed. 



LIFE IN DIXIE 



Robinson, 
wd. Mason, 
Wm. Knig-ht, 
Robert Bruffum, 
William Pitteng-er, 
M. J. Hawkins, 
I. Parroth, 



W. Bensing-er, 
A. Wilson, 
W. Reddie, 
D. A. Dorsej, 
I. R. Porter, 
M. Wood, 
W. W. Brown. 



The last named fourteen were never tried. 



DVRING THE WAB. 349 

CONFEDERATE LOVE SONG. 



Over the mountains of Winter, 
And the cold, cold plains of snow, 

Down in the valleys of Summer, 
Calling my love I go. 

And strong- in my woe and passion, 

I climb up the^hills of Spring, 
To listen if I hear his voice 
. In songs he used to sing. 

I wait in the fields of Autumn, 

And gather a feast of fruit. 
And call my love to the banquet; 

His lips are cold and mute. 

I say to the wild bird flying: 
" My darling sang sweet as you; 

Fly o'er the earth in search of him. 
And to the skies of blue." 

I say to the wild- wood flowers: 
" My love was a friend to you; 

Send one of your fragrant spirits 
To the cool Isles of Dew," 

' Gold-girt by a belt of moonbeams, 

And seek on their gleaming shore 
A breath of the vanished sweetness 
For me his red lips bore." 

I stand at the gates of Morning, 
When the radiant angel, Light, 

Draws back the great bolt of darkness, 
And by the gates of Night, 

When the hands of bright stars tremble 
While clasping their lanterns bright; 

And I hope to see him passing. 
And touch his garments white. 



350 LIFE IN DIXIE 

O, love I if you hear me calling, 
Flee not from the wailing- cry; 

Come from the g-rottoes of Silence 
And hear me, or I die I 

Stand out on the hills of Echo; 
The sensitive, pulsing air 

Will thrill at your softest whisper- 
Speak to me, love, from there ! 

O, love, if I hear you calling. 
Though far on the heavenly side. 

My voice will float on the billow '. 
" Come to your spirit bride." 

—Mary A. H. Gay. 



BUBING THE WAB. 351 



TO THE READER. 



Who has kindly perused these sketches, I would 
say, as they have already attained leng-th and breadth 
not anticipated from the beg-inning-, I will withhold the 
sequels to many of them for, perhaps, another volume 
of reminiscences. 

Were I possessed of the Sam Weller g-enius and 
versatility, and the happy faculty of making- the 
reader wish I had written more, I would throw open 
the doors of the store-house of my war memories, a 
structure as capacious as the "Southern Confederacy" 
and canopied by the firmament, and invite the public 
to enter and share with me the treasures hidden there. 
The coruscations of wit and the profound displays.^of 
wisdom by many who donned Confederate g-rey and 
went forth in manhood's prime to battle for the prin- 
ciples of their country, would employ the minds and 
feast the intellect of the most erudite. There are 
living-, g-lowing- pictures hanging- upon the walls 
which delineate the mysteries of humanity in all its 
varied forms, and, by example, demonstrate that we 
often spurn with holy horror that which is belter far 
than that which we embrace with all the fervor of af- 
fection. I would resurrect the loftest patriotism from 
the most humble g-raves in the Southern land, and 
prove by heroic deeds and noble acts that valor on 



352 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the battle-field was as often illustrated bj the humble 
soldier whose name has not been preserved in "storied 
urn," as by the g-allant son of chivalrous ancestors who 
commanded the applause of an admiring- multitude. I 
would place by the side of those greatest of chieftains, 
Robert K. Lee, and our impreg^nable "Stonewall" 
Jackson and Albert Sidney Johnston, many of our sol- 
diers "unknown to fame," in faded grey jackets and 
war-worn pants, and challenge the world for the dif- 
ference. I would dwell with loving interest upon the 
innumerable sad, sweet faces of the mighty throng of 
bereaved mothers, sisters and aunts, out of whose lives 
all light had gone, and who, though hopeless, uttered 
no words of complaint against our cause or its leader, 
but toiled on with unswerving faith and souls that 
borrowed the lustre of heaven. All these sad things 
in my gallerj^ I would clothe in living form and glow- 
ing color. And, saddest of all, I would live over 
with them that melancholy period when the very few, 
comparatively, that were left of the noble defenders of 
our principles, came back, not with buoyant step and 
victor crown, but with blighted hopes and despondent 
mien to desolated homes and decimated families. Un- 
der the new regime I would tell of despair and suicide, 
of hope, energy and success ; I would tell how I have 
lived in this gallery — its silent occupants my compan- 
ions and friends, my inspiration to useful deeds. 
There is not a day that I do not arouse by muffled 
tread the slumbering echoes of this past, and look 
upon the cherished souvenirs of the patriotic friends 
now roaming the beautiful gardens of Paradise, or 
sleeping the mystic waiting of the resurrection. I 



DUBING THE WAB. 353 

ponder upon their lives, their ambitions, their disap- 
pointments, and it requires no effort of the imag-ina- 
tion to animate those dead forms and invest them with 
living" attributes. And daily, in imag"ination I weave 
for them a laurel crown that shall g-row g^reener and 
g-reener as the cycles of Time speed on to Eternity. 



354 LIFE IN DIXIE 



APPENDIX. 



The author has selected the article, " Gleaning-s 
from General Sherman's Despatches," as an appendix 
for these sketches, not because of a desire to keep up the 
issues of the war between the States (for she would 
gladly bury them so deep thej could never be resur- 
rected until the great Judge of all issues calls them 
up to receive sentence by his unerring judgment), but 
rather, because of the persistent insistence of North- 
ern Republicans to make it appear to the world that 
the Southern people are a semi-barbarous people, 
solely responsible for the war and altogether unwor- 
thy fraternal consideration in the compact called the 
Union. 

The article mentioned, " Gleanings from General 
Sherman's Despatches," is to be found, word for word, 
in The Southern Magazine, May, 1873, Vol. XII. 
Baltimore : TurnbuU Brothers. 



GLEANINGS PROM GENERAL SHERMAN'S 
DESPATCHES. 

Those thick, loosely-bound octavos printed on soft 
and rather dingy paper, which Congress publishes 
and distributes under the name of Public Documents, 
are not generally considered very entertaining read- 
ing. But there are exceptions ; and one of these is the 
report of the joint committee of Congress on the con- 



DURING THE WAB. 355 

duct of the war. Indeed, compared with such mild 
pastorals as "Some Accounts of the Cheese Manufac- 
ture in Central New York," or " Remarks on the Cul- 
tivation of Alfalfa in Western Tennessee," it is quite 
luridly sensational, and in parts reminds us of those 
striking- reports of the Duke of Alva to his royal mas- 
ter, which have been disinterred in the dusty archives 
of Simancas. As a study of congressional nature, 
military nature, and human nature generally, in its 
least attractive aspects, these eight stout volumes are 
richly worth perusal. Here the reader is allowed to 
peep behind the scenes of that portentous drama ; 
here he may see the threads of the intrigues that cen- 
tered in Washington ; may hear a petty newspaper 
correspondent demonstrating, with an animation that 
we can scarcely ascribe to fervid patriotism, the 
incapacity, the ignorance and even the doubtful "loy- 
alty " of the commander-in-chief ; may see private 
malignity and vindictiveness putting on grand Ro- 
man airs, and whispering debaters draping themselves 
in the toga of Brutus. 

However, it is not with these aspects of the reports 
that we at present have to do, but with the despatches 
of General Sherman on his march through Georgia 
and South Carolina. A great deal of fiction and some 
verse,* we believe, have been written about this fa- 
mous march or grand foray ; but here we have the 
plain matter-of-fact statement of things as they were, 
and they form a luminous illustration of the advance 



* One of these poems, " Marching Through Georgia," we learn by the 
evidence, was a favorite canticle of Murray, the kidnapper and butcher of 
Captain Polynesius. 



356 LIFE W DIXIE 

of civilization in the nineteenth century as exempli- 
fied in the conduct of invasions, showing- how modern 
philanthropy and humanitarianism, while acknowledg-- 
ing- that for the present war is a necessary evil, still 
strive to mitigate its horrors and spare all avoidable 
suffering- to non-combatants. For this purpose we have 
thought it worth while to reproduce a few of the most 
striking extracts illustrating the man, his spirit, and 
his work. 

A kind of keynote is sounded in the dispatches to 
General Stoneman, of May 14, which, after ordering 
him to "press down the valley strong," ends with the 
words, "Pick up whatever provisions and plunder you 
can." 

On June 3, the question of torpedoes is discussed, 
and General Stedman receives the following instruc- 
tions : "If torpedoes are found in the possession of 
an enemy to our rear, you may cause them to be put 
on the ground and tested by wagon loads of prisoners, 
or, if need be, by citizens implicated in their use. In 
like manner, if a torpedo is suspected on any part of 
the railroad, order the point to be tested by a carload 
of prisoners or citizens implicated, drawn by a long 
rope." " Implicated," we suppose here meant "resid- 
ing or captured in the neighborhood." 

On July 7, we have an interesting dispatch to 
General Garrard on the subject of the destruction of 
the factories at Roswell. " Their utter destruction is 
right, and meets m}^ entire approval ; and to make the 
matter complete, you will arrest the owners and em- 
plo3^ees and send them under guard charged with 
treason, to Marietta, and I will see as to any man in 



DURING THE WAB. 357 

America hoisting- the French flag- and then devoting- 
his labor and capital to supplying- armies in open hos- 
tility to our g-overnment, and claiming- the benefit of 
his neutral flag-. Should you, under the impulse of 
ang-er, natural at contemplating- such perfidy, hang; 
the wretch, I approve the act beforehand •••• I re- 
peat my orders that you arrest all people, male and 
female, connected with those factories, no matter 
what the clamor, and let them foot it, under g:uard, to 
Marietta, whence I will send them by cars to the 
North. Destroy and make the same disposition of all 
mills, save small flouring- mills, manifestly for local 
use ; but all saw mills and factories dispose of effect- 
ually ; and useful laborers, excused by reason of their 
skill as manufacturers, from conscription, are as much 
prisoners as if armed." On the same day he further 
enlarg-es on this subject in a despatch to General Hal- 

leck : 

"General Garrard reports to me that he is in pos- 
session of Roswell, where were several very valuable 
cotton and wool factoiues in full operation, also paper 
mills, all of which, by my order, he destroyed by fire. 
They had been for years eng-aged exclusively at work 
for the Confederate g-overnment ; and the owner of the 
woolen factory displayed the French flag-, but, as he 
failed to show the United States flag- also. General 
Garrard burned it also. The main cotton factory was 
valued at a million of United States dollars. The 
cloth on hand is reserved for the use of the United 
States hospitals ; and I have ordered General Garrard 
to arrest for treason all owners and employees, foreign 
and native, and send them to Marietta, whence I will 



358 LIFE IN DIXIE 

send them North. Being- exempt from conscription, 
thej are as much g-overned by the rules of war as if in 
the ranks. The women can find employment in Indi- 
ana. This whole reg-ion was devoted to manufactories, 
but I 'will destro}' everyone of them." There are two 
points specially worth notice in this despatch. The 
first, that since these men and women, by reason of 
sex, or otherwise, are exempt from conscription, they 
are, therefore, as much subject to the rules of war as 
if in the ranks. Why not do less violence to log^ic and 
state frankly that factory hands were in demand in 
Indiana ? The next point is that the Roswell fac- 
tories, whether French property or not, were destroyed 
because they were making- cloth for the Confederate 
g-overnment, followed presently by the declaration 
that every manufactory in that reg-ion shall be 
destroyed, evidently without reference to its products 
or their destination. How much franker it would 
have been to have added to this last sentence, "and 
thus g-et rid of so many competitors to the factories of 
the North." The South must ,learn that while she 
may bear the burden of protective tariffs, she must 
not presume to share their benefits. Another despatch 
to General Halleck, of July 9, ag-ain refers to these 
factories. After referring- to the Eng-lish and French 
ownership, comes this remark : "I take it a neutral 
is no better than one of our citizens, and we would 
not respect the property- of one of our own citizens en- 
g-ag-ed in supplying- a hostile army." This is the kind 
of log-ic proverbially used b}^ the masters of leg-ions. 
A despatch to General Halleck, of July 13, g-ives 
General Sherman's opinion of two g-reat and philan- 



DURING THE WAR. 359 

thropic institutions. Speeiking- of " fellows hang-ing- 
about" the army, he says: "The Sanitar}^ and 
Christian Commission are enoug-h to eradicate all 
traces of Christianity from our minds." 

July 14, to General J. K. Smith, at Allatoona : " If 
you entertain a bare suspicion ag-ainst any family, 
send it North. Any loafer or suspicious person seen at 
any time should be imprisoned and sent off. If guer- 
rillas trouble the road or wires they should be shot 
without mercy." 

September 8, to General Webster after the capture 
of Atlanta : " Don't let an}- citizens come to Atla,nta ; 
not one. I won't allow trade or manufactures of any 
kind, but you will remove all the present population, 
and make Atlanta a pure military town." To Gen- 
eral Halleck he writes : "I am not willing- to have 
Atlanta encumbered by the families of our enemies." 
Of this wholesale depopulation. General Hood com- 
plained, by flag- of truce, as cruel and contrary to the 
usages of civilized nations and customs of war, re- 
ceiving- this courteous and gentlemanly reply (Sep- 
tember 12) : " Ijthink I understand the laws of civil- 
ized nations and the 'customs of war ;' but, if at a 
loss at any time, I know where to seek for informa- 
tion to refresh m^^ memory." General Hood made the 
correspondence, or part of it, public, on which fact. 
General Sherman remarks to General Halleck : "Of 
course, he is welcome, for the more he arouses the in- 
dignation of the Southern masses, the bigger will be 
the pill of bitterness they will have to swallow." 

About the middle of September, General Sherman, 
being still in Atlanta, endeavored to open private 



360 LIFE IN DIXIE 

communication with Governor Brown and Vice-Presi- 
dent Stephens, whom he knew to be at variance with 
the administration at Richmond on certain points of 
public policy. Mr. Stephens refused to reply to a ver- 
bal messag-e, but wrote to Mr. King-, the intermedi- 
ary, that if the g-eneral would sa}^ that there was any 
prospect of their ag-reeing- upon " terms to be submit- 
ted to the action of their respective governments," he 
would, as requested, visit him at Atlanta. The 
motives urged by Mr. King were General Sherman's 
extreme desire for peace, and to hit upon " some plan 
of terminating this fratricidal war without the fur- 
ther effusion of blood." But in General Sherman's 
despatch of September 14, to Mr. Lincoln, referring 
to these attempted negotiations, the humanitarian 
point of view is scarcely so prominent. He says : "It 
would be a magnificent stroke of policy if I could, 
without surrendering a foot of ground or principle, 
arouse the latent enmity to Davis.'' 

On October 20, he writes to General Thomas from 
Summerville, giving an idea of his plan of opera- 
tions : "Out of the forces now here and at Atlanta, 
I propose to organize an efficient army of 60,000 to 
65,000 men, with which I propose to destroy Macon, 
Augusta, and it may be, Savannah and Charleston. 
By this I propose to demonstrate the vulnerability of 
the South, and make its inhabitants feel that war 
and individual ruin are synonymous terms." 

Despatch of October 22, to General Grant " I am 
now perfecting arrangements to put into Tennessee a 
force able to hold the line of the Tennessee, while I 
break up the railroad in front of Dalton, including 



DURING THE WAB. 361 

the city of Atlanta, and push into Georgia and break 
up all its railroads and depots, capture its horses and 
neg-roes, make desolation everywhere ; destroy the 
factories at Macon, Milledg-eville and Augusta, and 
bring up with 60,000 men on the seashore about Sa- 
vannah and Charleston." 

To General Thomas, from Kingston, November 2 : 
"Last night we burned Rome, and in two more days 
will burn Atlanta " (which he was then occupying). 

Decembers-. "Blair can burn the bridges and 
culverts and burn enough barns to mark the progress 
of his head of columns." 

December 18, to General Grant, from near Savan- 
nah : "With Savannah in our possession, at some 
future time, if not now, we can punish South Caro- 
lina as she deserves, and as thousands of people in 
Georgia hope we will do. I do sincerely believe that 
the whole United States, north and south, would re- 
joice to have this army turned loose on South Caro- 
lina, to devastate that State in the manner we have 
done in Georgia." 

A little before this he announces to Secretary 
Stanton that he knows what the people of the South 
are fighting for. What do our readers suppose ? To 
ravage the North with sword and fire, and crush them 
under their heel ? Surely it must be some such delu- 
sion that inspires this ferocity of hatred, unmitigated 
by even a word of compassion. He may speak for 
himself: "Jefferson Davis has succeeded perfectly 
in inspiring his people with the truth that liberty and 
government are worth fighting for." This was their 
unpardonable crime. 

24 



362 LIFE IN DIXIE 

December 22, to General Grant : "If jou can hold 
Lee, I could go on and smash South Carolina all to 
pieces." 

On the 18th General Halleck writes: "Should 
you capture Charleston, I hope that by some accident 
the place may be destroyed ; and if a little salt should 
be sown upon its site, it may prevent the growth of 
future crops of nullification and secession." To this 
General Sherman replies, December 24: "This war 
differs from European wars in this particular — we are 
not only fighting hostile armies, but hostile people ; 
and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the 
hard hand of war, as well as their organized armies. 
I will bear in mind your hint as to Charleston, and 
don't think sail will be necessary. When I move, the 
Fifteenth corps will be on the right of the right wing, 
and their position will naturally throw them into 
Charleston first ; and, if you have studied the history 
of that corps, you will have remarked that they gen- 
erally do their work up pretty well. The truth is, the 
whole arm}^ is burning with insatiable desire to wreak 
vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost tremble 
for her fate, but she deserves all that seems in store 
for her. 

"I look upon Columbia as quite as bad as Charles- 
ton, and I doubt if we shall spare the public buildings 
there as we did at Milledgeville." 

And now we look with interest for the despatches 
that would settle the vexed question as to whether 
Sherman or his officers, acting under his orders, 
burned Columbia on the I7th of February. Unfortu- 
nately, a paternal government, not thinking it good 



DUBING THE WAB. 363 

that the truth should be known, has suppressed all 
the despatches between the 16tli and the 21st, and 
every other allusion to the transaction. 

On the 23d, he writes to General Kilpatrick: "Let 
the whole people know the war is now ag^ainst them, 
because their armies flee before us and do not defend 
their country or frontier as they should. It is pretty- 
nonsense for Wheeler and Beaureg-ard and such vain 
heroes to talk of our warring- ag-ainst women and chil- 
dren and prevent us reaching- their homes." 

If, therefore, an army defending- their countr}^ can 
prevent invaders from reaching- their homes and fam- 
ilies, the latter have a rig-ht to that protection ; but if 
the invaders can break throug-h and reach these 
homes, these are justified in destroying women and 
children. Certainly this is a g-reat advance on the 
doctrine and practice of the dark ag-es. Another 
extraordinary moral consequence flows from this 
insufficiency of defence: "If the enemy fails to defend 
his countr}', we may rig-htfully appropriate what we 
want." Here, now, is a nice question of martial law 
or casuistry, solved with the simplicity of an ancient 
Roman. In other words, when in the enemy's coun- 
try, the army shall be strictly careful not to seize, cap- 
ture or appropriate to military or private uses, any 
property — that it cannot g-et. 

"They (the Southern people) have lost all title to 
propert}^, and can lose nothing- not already forfeited." 

What, nothing- ? Not merely the houses we had 
built, the lands we had tilled, the churches we wor- 
shipped in — had we forfeited the rig-ht to drink of the 
streams, to behold the sun, to breathe the free air of 



364 LIFE IN DIXIE 

heaven ? What unheard of, what inconceivable crime 
had we committed that thus closed every g-ate of mercy 
and compassion ag^ainst us, and provoked an utterance 
which has but one parallel — the death warrant signed 
by Philip II. ag"ainst all Netherlanders ? General 
Sherman has himself told us what it was : We had 
dared to act on the "truth that liberty and g-overn- 
ment are worth fig-hting- for." 

On March 15, he writes to General Gillmore, 
advising- him to draw forces from Charleston and 
Savannah (both then in Federal hands) to destroy a 
railroad, etc. "As to the g-arrisons of those places I 
don't feel disposed to be over-g-enerous, and should 
not hesitate to burn Savannah, Charleston and Wil- 
ming-ton, or either of them, if the garrisons were 
needed." 

Such are some of the results of our g-leaning-s in 
this field. Is it any wonder that after reading- them 
we fervently echo General Sherman's devout aspira- 
tion : " I do wish the fine race of men that people the 
United States should rule and determine the future 
destiny of America." 



nUBlNG THE WAB. 365 



SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 



(Reprinted by Permission of the Illustrator Company. From 
the April, 1896, Number of " The Illustrator." Copyrighted. 
All Rights Reserved.) 

It is a proud thing- for Americans to fsel that there 
is little to bring- the blush of shame to their cheeks in 
the contemplation of their country's history. It is a 
glorious thing for our young manhood to know that 
the annals of their race tell of the earnest and upward 
progress of a people, Christian from the first, toward 
an ever higher civilization. It is well to reflect that 
when the ruthless hand of war has turned American 
citizenship from the paths of peace it could do little 
more than array strong man against sturdy foeman in 
an honest battle for principle, and that outrage and 
pillage in our broad domain have been the almost 
undisputed heritage of the Aborigines. 

Enduring with patient fortitude the raids of savage 
foes upon our early frontiers, meeting the armed 
invasion of foreign hosts with a resistance vigorous 
but manly, pressing our own victorious arms to the 
very citadel of our Mexican neighbors without spolia- 
tion or rapine, it is sad to realize that it remained for 
an internecine conflict, where brother stood ag-ainst 
brother, for an invasion by an army void of pretext 
of reprisal or revenge, to write upon American war- 
fare the stigma of vandalism, rapacit}^ and theft. 



366 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The movement from Atlanta to Savannah, which 
fig-ured in history as "The March to the Sea," was, 
from the standpoint of the tactician, no great achieve- 
ment ; it involved no more than the passag-e of an 
invincible army across some three hundred miles of 
country, where it could g-ather supplies upon its wa}^ 
to effect a junction with its naval allies at a practically 
defenceless city. It was peculiarl}^ lacking- in the 
daring- which is customarily ascribed to it, for it was 
made, practically, without resistance and along- a 
route where no considerable force of the enemy could 
have been encountered. It was not a venture in the 
dark with a conclusion to be determined by circum- 
stances ; for the authorities at Washing-ton were fully 
advised of its author's purpose, and Gen. Sherman 
was assured that he would meet a formidable fleet at 
Savannah before he undertook it. It was no more 
nor less than the yielding-, by this most typical bar- 
barian conqueror of the Nineteenth century, to the 
spirit of pillag-e and excess which disting-uished his 
prototypes in the da3^s of the Goths and Vandals, 
when the homes and firesides of their enemies were 
at their mercy. It was a campaig-n remarkable only 
for the revival of military methods abandoned since 
Attila the Hun. It was, nevertheless, as carefully 
planned as it was ruthlessly executed. It was no 
sudden impulse which laid the torch to ever}^ roof-tree, 
upon the invading- army's path. It was no spirit of 
retaliation for vigorous but inefl'ective resistance 
which g-oaded these conquerors to excess, for out of 
62,204 men who beg-an the march but 103 lost their 
lives before they reached Savannah. It was simply 



DIJBING THE WAR. 307 

the grasping- of the amplest opportunity by a man 
who g"lories in looting- and destruction, and to whom 
human misery was a subject for jest. 

At the outset let us understand that General 
Sherman, throug-h all that portion of his career which 
beg-an with the destruction of Atlanta, was acting- 
upon a plan and a theory devised and adopted weeks 
before ; that his own actions and that of his army 
were in no sense impulsive, but in every way con- 
trolled by premeditation, and that our authority for 
such a conclusion lies in the repeated statements of 
the General himself. 

With the brutal frankness which was one of his 
characteristics, he w^rote on September 4th, 1864, in 
a letter to General Halleck, which he reproduces in 
his autobiography: "If the people raise a howl 
ag-ainst my barbarit}^ and cruelty, I will answer that 
war is war and not popularity-seeking-." "I knew, of 
course," he sa3^s, "that such a measure would be 
strong-ly criticized, but made up m}^ mind to do it with 
the absolute certainty of its justness, and that time 
would sanction its wisdom. I knew that the people of 
the South would read in this measure two important 
conclusions ; one that we were in earnest, and the 
other that if they were sincere in their common and 
popular clamor 'to die in the last ditch,' the opportunit}^ 
would soon come." 

The cold-blooded candor of this statement leaves 
little doubt of the temperature of the well-spring-s 
which fed that org-an of General Sherman correspond- 
ing- to the heart of an ordinary man ; but if evidence 
were wanting- of his absolute unconcern for the suffer- 



368 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ing-s of others when his own plans mig-ht be inter- 
fered with to the slig-htest degree, it might be found 
in his answer to General Hood's proposition for an 
exchange of prisoners. "Some of these prisoners," 
he says, " had already escaped and got in, and had de- 
scribed the pitiable condition of the remainder." He 
had at that time about two thousand Confederate 
prisoners available for exchange. "These I offered 
to exchange for Stoneman, Buell, and such of my own 
army as would make up the equivalent ; but I would 
not exchange for his prisoners generally, because I 
knew these would have to be sent to their own regi- 
ments away from my army, whereas all we could give 
him could at once be put to duty in his immediate 
army." No possible suffering which his unfortunate 
companions in arms could be forced to bear by reason 
of the Confederates' lack of supplies with which to 
feed and clothe them, could induce him to exchange 
for men who would not strengthen his own immedi- 
ate army ! 

Geneseric, the Vandal, is said to have been " cruel 
to blood thirstiness, cunning, unscrupulous and grasp- 
ing ; but he possessed great militar}^ talents and his 
manner of life was austere." Let the impartial reader 
of history say how nearly the barbarian who marched 
to the sea in the nineteenth centurj^, approached to 
his prototype of the fifth century. One is not sur- 
prised, therefore, to find this man writing to General 
Hood on September 7th, 1864, that he "deemed it to 
the interest of the United States that the citizens now 
residing in Atlanta should remove." 

In the midst of a region desolated by war, their 



DURING THE WAli. 869 

fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, in the arni}^ hun- 
dreds of miles awaj, it was "deemed to be in the 
interest of the United States" that the helpless women 
and children of Atlanta should be driven from their 
homes to find such shelter as God gives the ravens 
and the beasts of the wood. It was a course that 
wrung- from General Hood these forceful words of 
reply : 

"Permit me to say that the unprecedented meas- 
ure you propose transcends, in studied and ing-enious 
cruelty, all acts ever before broug-ht to my attention 
in the dark history of war. In the name of God and 
humanity I protest, believing- that you will find 3^ou 
are expelling- from their homes and firesides the wives 
and children of a brave people." To this burning- 
arraig-nment General Sherman could find no better 
answer than arg-ument concerning- the rig-ht of States 
to secede. But it was followed on September 11th by 
an appeal from the mayor and councilmen of Atlanta 
which would have touched a heart of stone. It was 
humble, it was earnest, it was pitiful. It provoked 
these words in reply : "I have your letter of the 11th 
in the nature of a petition to revoke my orders remov- 
ing- all the inhabitants from Atlanta. I have read it 
carefull}^, and g-ive full credit to your statements of 
distress that will be occasioned, and yet shall not 
revoke my orders, because they were not desig-ned to 
meet the humanities of the case, but to prepare for 
the future strug-g-les in which millions of g-ood people 
outside of Atlanta have an interest." 

The same unalterable resolution must have domi- 
nated Geneseric, the Vandal, when he prepared for his 



370 LIFE I^' DIXIE 

fourteen days sacking- of Rome. The vandal of the 
fifth century had at least the pretext of reprisal for 
his actions ; the vandal of the nineteenth centur}^ 
could find no better plea for his barbarity than that it 
mig-ht wring- the hearts of absent men until they 
would sacrifice principle and honor for the relief of 
their loved ones. 

President Davis says: "Since Alva's atrocious 
cruelties to the non-combatant population of the low 
countries in the sixteenth century, the history of war 
records no instance of such barbarous cruelt}^ as this 
order desig-ned to perpetrate. It involved the imme- 
diate expulsion from their homes and only means of 
subsistence of thousands of unoffending- women and 
children, whose husbands and fathers were either in 
the armj^, in Northern prisons, or had died in battle." 

At the time appointed the women and children 
were expelled from their houses, and, before they were 
passed within our lines, complaint was g-enerall}^ 
made that the Federal officers and men who were sent 
to g-uard them had robbed them of the few articles of 
value the}^ had been permitted to take from their 
homes. The cowardly dishonest}^ of the men ap- 
pointed to carry out this order, was in perfect har- 
mony with the temper and the spirit of the order. 

It was on the 12th da}^ of November, 1864, that 
"The March to the Sea" began. Hood's army had 
been followed to Tennessee, and Sherman's forces had 
destroyed the railroad during- their return trip to At- 
lanta. They were now ready to abandon the ruins of 
the Gate City for fresher and more lucrative fields of 
havoc. It is fair to General Sherman to say that his 



DVBING THE WAB. 371 

plans and intentions had been fully communicated to 
the authorities at Washing-ton, and that they met 
with the thoroug-h approbation of General Halleck, 
then Chief of Staff. 

General Halleck will be remembered as the hero 
who won immortal fame before Corinth. With an 
immensely superior force he so thoroughly entrencned 
himself before that cit}^ that he not onl}^ held his po- 
sition during- General Beauregard's occupancy of the 
town, but retained it for several days after the Confed- 
erate evacuation. He retired from active service after 
this, his only piece of campaigning", to act in an ad- 
visory capacity at Washington, and it was he who 
wrote these encouraging words to Sherman at Atlanta : 
"The course which you have pursued in removing- 
rebel families from Atlanta, and in the exchange of 
prisoners, is fully approved by the War Department. 
. . .... Let the dislo3^al families thus stripped 

g-o to their husbands, fathers, and natural protectors 

in the rebel ranks I would destro}^ 

every mill and factor}^ within reach, which I did not 
want for my own use I have endeav- 
ored to impress these views upon our commanders for 
the last two years. I'on are almost the only one zvho 
has properly applied them.'' These words of encour- 
ag'ement fell upon willing ears. No one knew better 
than Sherman how to read the sentiments between 
those lines ; he understood the motives which moved 
their doughty author as thoroughh^ as when later 
the same hand g-athered courage to advise him in 
plain unvarnished words to wipe the city of Charles- 
ton off the face of the earth, and sow her site with 



372 LIFE IN DIXIE 

salt. The valiant Chief of Staff, who urged on cam- 
paig-ns from a point sufficiently to the rear, had found 
at last a man who would carry ont his instructions, and 
the war upon women and children was about to begin. 

General Halleck was not the sole confidant of Gen- 
eral Sherman's plan. Less than a month before the 
memorable march was undertaken, he telegraphed to 
General Grant: "I propose that we break up the 
railroad from Chattanooga forward, and that we strike 
out for Milledgeville, Millen and Savannah. Until we 
can repopulate Georgia, it is useless for us to occupy 
it, but the utter destruction of its roads, houses and 
people will cripple their military resources. I can 
make this march, and make Georgia howl !" 

Sir Walter Raleigh conceived and attempted to ex- 
ecute the plan of exterminating the Irish race, and 
colonizing their lands from England. The Sultan of 
Turkey is about to carry out a similar policy with his 
Armenians. 

The difference between these other exterminators 
and Sherman, is that they expected to be met at the 
doors of the hom-s they intended to destroy by men 
capable of offering resistance, while the American 
General knew he would have to do with women and 
children alone. 

He evidently met with some expostulation from 
General Grant, for he afterwards telegraphed him 
that he would "infinitely prefer to make a wreck 
of the road and the country from Chattanooga and At- 
lanta, including the latter city, send back all wounded 
and unserviceable men, and with the effective army 
move through Georgia, smashing things to the sea." 



DURING THE WAR. 373 

Receiving* no answer to this latter dispatch, he did 
not hesitate to execute the campaign as he had planned 
it, and in his own lang-uage proceeded to "make the 
interior of Georgia feel the weight of war." 

Sherman and his staff rode out of the Gate City at 
7 o'clock in the morning of the 16th. "Behind us," 
he sa3's, " lay Atlanta, smouldering and in ruins, the 
black smoke rising high in the air and hanging like a 
pall over the ruined cit3\ Some band, b}^ accident, 
struck up the anthem of ' John Brown's soul goes 
marching on '. The men caught up the strain, and 
never before or since have I heard the chorus of 
' Glory, glory, hallelujah !' done with more spirit or in 
better harmony of time and place." To the credit of 
the slandered soul of that other marauder, let us say, 
that John Brown's lawless warfare was upon men 
alone, and that booty formed no part of his incentive. 

Knowing that no effective resistance was to be ex- 
pected, Sherman so scattered his columns that the 
sixty-mile " swath" which it was his purpose to de- 
vastate, was covered by them with ease. In order 
that the work might be thoroughly and effectively 
done, a sufficient number of men were detailed for 
that branch of militar}^ service peculiar to Sherman's 
army, and known as " bummers." 

" These interesting individuals always," says the 
General, " arose before day and preceded the army on 
its march." " Although this foraging was attended 
with great danger and hard work, there seemed to be 
a charm about it that attracted the soldiers, and it 
was a privilege to be detailed on such a party." "No 
doubt," he adds with that same blunt frankness, 



374 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"many acts of pillag-e, robbery and violence were 
committed by these parties of foragers usuall}^ called 
'bummers'; for I have since heard of jewelry taken 
from women, and the plunder of articles that never 
reached the commissary." But these playful fellows, 
in spite of such indiscretions, were never more to the 
General than an exhibition of that charming- humor 
invariably apparent in him in the presence of human 
suffering-. 

We may gather an idea of them from the follow- 
ing description given by a correspondent of the New 
York Herald, who accompanied the army: "Any 
man who has seen the object that the name applies to 
will acknowledge that it was admirably selected. 
Fancy a ragged man, bleached by the smoke of many 
a pine-knot fire, mounted on a scraggy mule without 
a saddle, with a gun, a knap-sack, a butcher-knife 
and a plug hat, stealing his way through the pine 
forests far out in the flanks of a column, keen on the 
scent of rebels, or bacon, or silver spoons, or coin, or 
anything valuable, and you have him in j^our mind. 
Think how you would admire him if you were a lone 
woman, with a famih^ of small children, far from 
help, when he blandly inquired where you kept your 
valuables ! Think how you would smile when he 
pried open your chests with his bayonet, or knocked 
to pieces your tables, pianos and chairs, tore 3'Our bed 
clothing into three-inch strips and scattered them 
about the yard. The ' bummers ' say it takes too 
much time to use ke3's. Color is no protection from 
the rough raiders. They go through a negro cabin 
in search of diamonds and gold watches with just as 



DURING 'THE WAR, 375 

much freedom ^md vivacity as they ' loot ' the dwell- 
ing- of a wealthy planter. They appear to be pos- 
sessed of a spirit of 'pure cussedness.' One inci- 
dent, illustrative of many, will suffice. A bummer 
stepped into a house and inquired for sorg-hum. The 
lady of the house presented a jug-, which he said was 
too heavy, so he merely filled his canteen. Then tak- 
ing- a huge wad of tobacco from his mouth he thrust 
it into the jug-. The lady inquired, in wonder, why 
he spoiled that which he did not want. ' Oh, some 
feller'll come along- and taste that sorg-hum and think 

you've poisoned him, then he'll burn 3^our d d old 

house.' There are hundreds of these mounted men 
with the column, and they g-o everywhere. Some of 
them are loaded down with silverware, g-old coin, a.nd 
other valuables. I hazard nothing- in saying- three 
fifths (in value) of the personal property of the coun- 
try we have passed throug-h was taken by Sherman's 
army." 

In an address delivered before the Association of 
the Maryland Line, Senator Zeb Vance, of North 
Carolina, has laid the vig-orous touch of his character- 
istic Kng-lish upon the void until it stands out in 
barbarous bold relief, so far beyond the pencil of the 
present writer that he best serves his readers by 
quoting-: "With reference to his famous and in- 
famous march, I wish to say that I hope I am too 
much of a man to complain of the natural and in- 
evitable hardships, or even cruelties of war ; but of 
the manner in which this army treated the peaceful 
and defenseless inhabitants in the reach of his col- 
umns, all civilization should complain. 



376 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"There are always stragglers and desperadoes 
following in the wake of an army, who do some dam- 
age to and inflict some outrages upon helpless citi- 
zens, in spite of all efforts of commanding officers to 
restrain and punish ; but when a General organizes a 
corps of thieves and plunderers as a part of his invad- 
ing army, and licenses beforehand their outrages, he 
and all who * countenance, aid or abet, invite the 
execration of mankind. This peculiar arm of mili- 
tary service, it is charged and believed, was instituted 
by General Sherman in his invasion of the Southern 
States. Certain it is that the operations of his 
' Bummer Corps ' were as regular and as unrebuked, 
if not as much commended for efficiency, as any other 
division of his army, and their, atrocities are often 
justified or excused, on the ground that ' such is 
war.' 

"In his own official report of his operations in 
Georgia, he says : ' We consumed the corn and 
fodder in the region of country thirty miles either side 
of a line from Atlanta to Savannah, also the sweet 
potatoes, hogs, sheep and poultry, and carried off 
more than ten thousand horses and mules. I esti- 
mate the damage done to Georgia at one-hundred 
million dollars, at least twenty million of which 
inured to our benefit, and the remainder was simply 
waste and destruction !'•••• The 'remainder' deli- 
cately alluded to, that is say damage done the 
unresisting inhabitants to over and above the seizing 
of necessary army supplies, consisted in private houses 
burned, stock shot down and left to rot, bed clothes, 
money, watches, spoons, plate and ladies' jewelry 



nUBlNG THE WAR. 377 

stolen, etc., etc. A lane of desolation sixty miles 
wide throug-h the heart of three great states, marked 
by more burning-s and destructions than ever followed 
in the wake of the widest cyclone that ever laid forest 
low ! And all done, not to support an invading- army, 
but for ' pure waste and destruction'; to punish the 
crime of rebellion, not in the persons of those who 
had broug-ht these about, but of peaceful non-combat- 
ants, the tillers of the soil, the women and the 
children, the ag-ed and feeble, and the poor slaves ! 
A silver spoon was evidence of disloyalty, a ring- on a 
lady's finger was a sure proof of sympathy with rebel- 
lion, whilst a g-old watch was prima facie evidence of 
the most damnable g-uilt on the part of the wearer. 
These obnoxious earmarks of treason must be seized 
and confiscated for private use- — for ' such is war !' If 
these failed, and they sometimes did, torture of the 
inhabitants was freely employed to force disclosure. 
Sometimes with noble rag-e at their disappointment, 
the victims were left dead, as a warning- to all others 
who should dare hide a jewel or a family trinket from 
the cupidity of a soldier of the Union. No doubt the 
stern necessity for such thing-s caused g-reat pain to 
those who inflicted, but the Union must be restored, and 
how could that be done whilst a felonious g-old watch 
or a treasonable spoon was suffered to remain in the 
land, g-iving- aid and comfort to rebellion ? For 'such 
is war.' Are such thing-s war indeed ? Let us see. 
Kig"hty-four years before that time, there was a war, 
in that same country ; it was a rebellion, too, and an 
English nobleman led the troops of Great Britain 
through that same region, over much of the same 

25 



378 LIFE IN DIXIE 

route, in his efforts to subdue that rebellion. The 
people throug-h whose land he marched were bitterly 
hostile, they shot his foraging- parties, his sentinels 
and strag-g-lers, they fired upon him from every wood. 
"He and his troops had every motive to hate and 
punish those rebellious and hostile people. It so hap- 
pens that the orig-inal order-book of Lord Cornwallis 
is in possession of the North Carolina Historical So- 
ciety. I have seen and read it. Let us make a few 
extracts and see what he considered war, and what he 
thoug"ht to be the duty of a civilized soldier towards 
non-combatants and the helpless: 

" 'Camp Nkar Beatty's Ford, 

January 28, 1781. 

" 'Lord Cornwallis has so often expressed the zeal 
and good will of the army that he has not the slight- 
est doubt that the officers and soldiers will most 
cheerfully' submit to the ill conveniences that must 
naturally attend war, so remote from water carriage 
and the magazines of the army. The suppl}- of rum 
for a time will be absolutely impossible, and that of 
meal very uncertain. It is needless to point out to the 
officers the necessit}' of preserving the strictest disci- 
pline, and of preventing the oppressed people from 
suffering violence by the hands from whom they are 
taught to look for protection.' 

" Now, General Sherman was fighting, as he said, 
for the sole purpose of restoring the Union, and for 
making the people of the rebellious States look to the 
United States alone for protection ; does any act or 
order of his anywhere indicate a similar desire of 



DURING THE WAR. 379 

protecting- the people from suffering- at the hands of 
those whose duty it was to protect them ? Again : 

*"Headquarteks, Lanslkr'vS Plantation, 

February 2, 1781. 
" ' Lord Cornwallis is hig-hly displeased that sev- 
eral houses have been set on fire to-day during- the 
march — a disg-race to the army — and he will punish 
with the utmost severity any person or persons who 
shall be found guilty of committing- so disgraceful an 
outrag-e. His lordship requests the commanding- offi- 
cers of the corps will endeavor to find the persons who 
set fire to the houses to-day.' 

"Now think of the march of Sherman's army which 
could be discovered a g-reat way off by the smoke of 
homesteads by day and the lurid g-lare of flames 
by nig-ht, from Atlanta to Savannah, from Columbia 
to Fayetteville, and suppose that such an order as this 
had been issued by its commanding- officers and rig-idly 
executed, would not the mortality have been quite 
equal to that of a g-reat battle ? 

"Arriving- in Fayetteville on the 10th of January, 
1865, he not only burned the arsenal, one of the finest 
in the United States, which perhaps he mig-ht prop- 
erl}- have done, but also burned five private dwelling- 
houses near by ; he burned the principal printing- 
offices, that of the old ' Fayetteville Observer ;' he 
burned the old Bank of North Carolina, eleven larg-e 
warehouses, five cotton mills and quite a number of 
private dwellings in other parts of the town, whilst in 
the suburbs almost a clean sweep was made ; in one 
locality nine houses were burned. Universally houses 



380 LIFE IN DIXIE 

were g-utted before they were burned, and after every- 
thing- portable was secured the furniture was ruth- 
lessly destroyed, pianos on which perhaps rebel tunes 
had been played — ' Dixie' or 'M}^ Maryland' — disloyal 
bureaus, traitorous tables and chairs were cut to pieces 
with axes, and frequently, after all this damage, fire 
was applied and all consumed. Carriag-es and vehicles 
of all kinds were wantonly destroyed or burned ; 
instances could be given of old men who had the shoes 
taken from their feet, the hats from their heads and 
clothes from their persons ; and their wives and chil- 
dren subjected to like treatment. In one instance, as 
the marauders left they shot down a dozen cattle be- 
longing- to an old man, and then left their carcasses 
lying in the yard. Think of that, and then remember 
the grievance of the Pennsylvania Dutch farmers who 
came in all seriousness to complain to General Long-- 
street in the Gettysburg- campaign, of the outrag-e 
which some of his ferocious rebels had committed 
upon them by ^ milking their cozvs.^ On one occasion, 
at Fayetteville, four gentlemen were hung- up by the 
neck until nearly dead to force them to disclose where 
their valuables were hidden, and one of them was shot 
to death. Ag-ain : 

" 'Headquarters Dobbins House, 

February 17, 1781. 
" 'Lord Cornwallis is very sorr}^ to be obliged to call 
the attention of the officers of the army to the repeated 
orders against plundering, and he assures the officers 
that if their duty to their King and country, and their 
feelings for humanit}^ are not sufficient to force their 



nUEING THE WAB. 381 

obedience to them, he must, however reluctantly, 
make use of such powers as the military laws have 

placed in his hands It is expected that 

Captains will exert themselves to keep g-ood order and 
to prevent plundering-. Any officer w/io looks on zvith 
indifference and does not do his utmost to fi'cvent shame- 
Jiil maraudings will he considered in a more criminal 
light than the -persons who commit these scandalous 
crimes, which must bring- disgrace and ruin on his 
Majesty's service. All forag-ing- parties will g-ive re- 
ceipts for supplies taken by them.' 

"Now, taking- it for granted that Lord Cornwallis, 
a distinguished soldier and a gentleman, is an authority 
on the rights of war, could there be found any where 
a more damnatory comment upon the practices of Gen- 
eral Sherman and his army ? Again : 

" 'Hkadquarteks, Freklands, 

February 28, 1781. 
" 'Memorandum : — A watch found by the regiment 
of Bose. The owner may have it from the adjutant of 
the regiment upon proving property.' Another : 

" 'Smith's Plantation, March 1, 1781. 

" 'Brigade Orders. A woman having been robbed 
of a watch, a black silk handkerchief, a gallon of peach 
brandy and a shirt, and as, by the description, by a 
soldier of the guards, the camp and every man's kit is 
to be immediately searched for the same b}^ the officers 
of the Brigade.' 

"Are there any poets in the audience, or other 
persons in whom the imaginative faculty has been 
largely cultivated ? If so, let me beg him to do me 



382 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the favor of conceiving-, if he can, and make manifest 
to me, the idea of a notice of a lost watch being- g-iven, 
in g-eneral orders, bj William Tecumseh Sherman, 
and the offer to return it on proof of property by the 
rebel owner ! Let him imag-ine, if he can, the search- 
ing- of every man's kit in the 3.rmj for a stolen watch, 
a shirt, a black silk handkerchief and a g-allon of 
peach brandy! Sherman says 'such is war.' I 
venture to sa^^ that up to the period when that ' g-reat 
march ' taug-ht us the contrar}^, no humane g-eneral 
or civilized people in Christendom believed //lal ' S7(c/i 
was war.' Has civilization g-one backward since Lord 
Cornwallis' day ? Have arson and vulg-ar theft been 
ennobled into heroic virtues? If so, when and by 
whom ? Has the art of discovering- a poor man's 
hidden treasure b}^ fraud or torture been elevated into 
the strateg-y which wins a campaig-n ? If so, when 
and by whom ? 

"No, it will not do to slur over these thing-s by a 
vag-ue reference to the inevitable cruelties of war. 
The time is fast coming- when the conduct of that 
campaig-n will be looked upon in the lig-ht of real 
humanity, and investig-ated in the real historic spirit 
which evolves truth ; and all the partisan song-s which 
have been sung-, or orations which subservient orators 
have spoken about that g-reat march to the sea; and 
all the caricatures of Southern leaders which the bit- 
terness of a diseased sectional sentiment has inspired; 
and all the g-lamour of a g-reat success, shall not avail 
to restrain the inexorable, the illuminating- pen of 
history. Truth, like charity, never faileth. Whether 
there be prophecies, the^^ shall fail, whether there be 



DUBINQ THE WAIi. 383 

tong"ues they shall cease; whether there be knowledg-e, 
it shall vanish away ; but when the truth, which is 
perfect, has come, then that which is in part shall be 
done away. 

"Now let us contrast General Sherman with his 
greatest foe; likewise the greatest, the most humane 
general of modern times, and see whether he regarded 
the pitiless destruction of the substance of women and 
children and inoffensive inhabitants a legitimate war: 

" ' Headquartkks Army of Northkrn Va., 

June 27, 1863. 
" 'General Order No. 73. The commanding gen- 
eral has observed with marked satisfaction the con- 
duct of troops on this march. There have, however, 
been instances of forgetfulness on the part of some 
that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation 
of this arni}^, and that the duties exacted of us by civ- 
ilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in 
the country of an enemy than in our own. The com- 
manding general considers that no greater disgrace 
could befall the army and through it our whole people, 
than the perpetration of barbarous outrages upon the 
unarmed and defenceless, and the wanton destruction 
of private property, that have marked the course of 
the enem}- in our countr3\ ... It will be remem- 
bered that we make war-onl}^ upon armed men. 

R. K. Lee, General.' 

"The humanity and Christian spirit of this order 
was such as to challenge the admiration of foreign 
nations. The 'London Times' commented upon it, 
and its American correspondent said : 'The greatest 



384 LIFE IN DIXIE. 

surprise has been expressed to me bj officers from the 
Austrian, Prussian and English armies, each of which 
has representatives here, that volunteer troops, pro- 
voked by nearly twenty-seven months of unparalleled 
ruthlessness and wantonness, of which their country 
has been the scene, should be under such control, and 
willing- to act in harmony with the long--suffering- and 
forbearance of President Davis and General Lee.' 

"To show how this order was executed, the same 
writer tells a story of how he witnessed with his own 
eyes General Lee and a surgeon of his command 
repairing the damage to a farmer's fence. Colonel 
McClure, of Philadelphia, a Union soldier himself, 
bears witness to the good conduct of Lee's ragged 
rebels in that famous campaign. He tells of hundreds 
of them coming to him and asking for a little bread 
and coffee, and others who were wet and shivering 
asking permission to enter a house, in which they saw 
a bright fire, to warm themselves until their coffee 
should be ready. Hundreds of similar instances could 
be given, substantiated by the testimony of men on 
both sides, to show the splendid humanity of that 
great invasion. Blessed be the good God, who, if in 
His wisdom denied us success, yet gave to us and our 
children the rich inheritance of this great example. 

"Major General Halleck, the commander-in-chief, 
under the President, of the armies of the Union, on 
the 18th of December, 1864, dispatched as follows to 
Sherman, then in Savannah : ' Should you capture 
Charleston, I hope that by some accident the place 
ma}^ be destroyed ; and if a little salt should be sown 
upon its site it may prevent the growth of future 



DURING THE WAR. 385 

crops of nullification and secession.' On December 
27tli, 1864, Sherman made the following- answer : ' I 
will bear in mind your hint as to Charleston, and 
don't think "salt" will be necessary. When I move, 
the 15th corps will be on the rig-ht of the right wing-, 
and their position will bring- them naturally into 
Charleston first, and if you have watched the history 
of the corps j^ou will have remarked that thej^ g-en- 
erally do their work up pretty well. The truth is, 
the whole army is burning* with insatiable desire to 
wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost 
tremble at her fate ; but feel that she deserves all that 
seems to be in store for her. . . I look upon Co- 
lumbia as quite as bad as Charleston.' Therefore 
Columbia was burned to ashes. And thoug-h he knew 
what was in store for South Carolina, so horrible that 
he even trembled, he took no steps to avert it, for he 
felt that she deserved it all. Did she, indeed ? What 
crime had she committed that placed her outside the 
protection of the law of civilized nations ? What un- 
just, or barbarous, or brutal conduct had she been 
guilty of to bring her within the exceptions laid down 
by the writers on the laws of war as authorizing- ex- 
traordinary severity of punishment ? They are not 
even imputed to her. South Carolina's crime, and the 
crime of all the seceding- States, was that of a con- 
struction of the constitution of the United States 
differing- from that of General Sherman and the 15th 
corps — which 'always did up its work pretty well.' 
Happily the Divine Goodness has made the powers of 
recuperation superior to those of destruction ; and 
though their overthrow was so complete that ' salt ' 



386 LIFE IN DIXIE 

was not needed as the type of utter desolation, Ma- 
rietta and Atlanta are thriving* and prosperous cities." 

Governor Vance does not wish to confine himself, 
in quoting-, to Southern testimony. There are plenty 
of honest and truthful soldiers in the Federal army, 
who served in its ranks, to tell all we want and more. 
This is what one of them saj^s, writing- to the "De- 
troit Free Press" of that campaig-n : "One of the 
most devilish acts of Sherman's campaig-n was the 
destruction of Marietta. The Military Institute and 
such mills and factories as mig-ht be a benefit to Hood 
could expect the torch, but Sherman was not content 
with that ; the torch was applied to everything-, even 
the shanties occupied b}^ the neg-roes. No advance 
warning- was g-iven. The first alarm was followed by 
the crackling- of flames. Soldiers rode from house to 
house, entered without ceremon^^ and kindled fires in 
g-arrets and closets, and stood by to see that they were 
not extinguished." Ag-ain he says : " Had one been 
able to climb to such a heig-ht at Atlanta as to enable 
him to see for forty miles around, the da}^ Sherman 
marched out, he would have been appalled at the de- 
struction. Hundreds of houses had been burned ; 
every rod of fence destro3^ed ; nearly every fruit tree 
cut down, and the face of the country so chang-ed that 
one born in that section could scarcely recog-nize it. 
The vindictiveness of war would have trampled the 
very earth out of sight, had such a thing- been 
possible." 

One cold and drizzly night in the midst of this 
marching General Sherman found shelter and warmth 
beneath the roof of a comfortable plantation home. 



DURING THE WAB. 387 

" In looking- around the room," he says, " I saw a 
small box, like a candle box, marked ' Howell Cobb,' 
and, on inquiring* of a neg'ro, found we were at the 
plantation of General Howell Cobb, of Georgia, one 
of the leading- rebels of the South, then a General in 
the Southern army, and who had been Secretar^^ of 
the Treasur}^ in Mr. Buchanan's time. Of course we 
confiscated his propert3% and found it rich in corn, 
beans, peanuts, and sorg-hum molasses. Extensive 
fields were all around the house. I sent word back to 
General Davis to explain whose plantation it was, 
and to instruct him to spare nothing-. That nig-ht 
huge bonfires consumed the fence-rails, kept our sol- 
diers warm, and the teamsters and men, as well as 
slaves, carried off an immense quantity of corn and 
provisions of all sorts." 

Do the records of civilized warfare furnish a par- 
allel to this petty and mercenary wreaking of spite 
upon the helpless home of a gallant foeman ? 

The General furnished us with proof of how worthj^ 
of their selection his staff -officers proved during that 
memorable raid. While camped that night on Cobb's 
plantation, Lieutenant Snelling, who was a Georgian 
commanding his escort, received permission to visit 
his uncle, who lived some six miles awa3^ 

"The next morning," sa3^s the General, "he de- 
scribed to me his visit. The uncle was not cordial by 
any means to find his nephew in the ranks of the host 
that was desolating the land, and Snelling came back, 
having exchanged his tired horse for a fresher one out 
of his uncle's stables, explaining that surely some of 
the 'bummers' would have got the horse had he not." 



388 LIFE IN DIXIE 

It was the eternal fitness of things that the staff- 
officers of this prince of free-booters should be rene- 
gades capable of stealing- from their nearest kin. 

The unfailing jocosity of this merry marauder 
breaks out in his recital of a negro's account of the de- 
struction of Sandersville : "First, there came along 
some cavalrymen, and they burned the depot; then 
came along some infantrymen, and they tore up the 
track and burned it, and, just before they left, they sot 
fire to the well !" The well, he explains, was a boxed 
affair into which some of the debris was piled, and the 
customary torch was applied, making the negro's 
statement literally true. This was one of the inci- 
dents to leaving the pretty town of Sandersville a 
smoking mass of ruins. 

But why enumerate further details of an unresisted 
movement which cost Sherman one hundred and three 
lives, and the State of Georgia one hundred million 
dollars, twenty millions of which he frankly states he 
carried off, and eighty millions of which he destro3^ed ? 
It began in shame at Atlanta — it passed with a gath- 
ering burden of infamy to Savannah. Starvation, terror, 
outrage hung upon its flanks and rear. Its days were 
darkened by the smoking incense from unparalleled 
sacrifices upon the altar of wantonness; its nights were 
lurid with flames licking the last poor shelter from 
above the heads of subjugated wives and children. 

Its history is the strongest human argument for an 
orthodox hell. 



DURING THE WAB. 389 



TESTIMONIALS. 



State of Gkorgia, 
Executive Office, 
Atlanta, September 1st, I894. 
"Ivife in Dixie During- the War," by Miss Mary 
A. H. Gay, presents a striking- picture of home life 
among- our people during- that dark period of our 
history. 

While such presentation is hardly looked for in 
more elaborate history of those times, Miss Gay's 
conception was a wise one, and the record she has 
given will preserve a most desirable part of the history 
of our section. 

Her book deserves to be widely circulated. 

W. J. NORTHEN, 

Governor. 

"LIFK IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR." 

This handsome volume from the pen of Miss Mary 
A. H. Gay, whose many acts of self-denial entitle her 
to the name of philanthropist, will meet with a hearty 
welcome from her wide circle of friends. But a casual 
g-lance at the volume leads us to conclude that outside 
of this circle, even with the reader who will look into 
it as a key to the history of the "times that tried 
men's souls," it will be a book of more than passing- 



390 LIFE IN DIXIE 

interest. The author writes with the feeling-s of a 
partisan, but time has mellowed her recollections of 
these stormy times, and even the reader whose sympa- 
thies were with the other side will agree with Joel 
Chandler Harris in his introduction to the book. In 
its mechanical g-et-up, the book is a g"em. — Atlanta 
Constitution^ December 18, 1892. 

"LIFE IN DIXIE." 

Miss Marj^ A. H. Gay has published a volume 
entitled "Life in Dixie During- the War," which 
should be in every Southern home. It is one of the 
truest pictures of the life of our people during the war 
that has yet been drawn. In fact, it could not be 
better, for it shows things just as they were. The 
struggles and sufferings of the Southern people during 
that awful period exhibited a heroism that has seldom 
been matched in the world's history. Miss Gay was 
among them. She looked on their trials with sympa- 
thetic eyes and suffered with them. Fortunately she 
is gifted with the power of describing what she saw, 
and her book will be a classic of war literature. Its 
every page is interesting. The story of Dixie during 
the war reads like romance to the generation that has 
arisen since, but it should have for generations an 
interest as deep as that with which it is read by those 
who lived and acted amid the scenes it records. It 
shows how grand w^as the courage and virtue, how 
sublime the faith and endurance of the men and 
women of the South throughout that terrible ordeal. 
It is a book that will live, and one that will give to 



DURING THE WAR. 391 

the world a true representation of the conduct of a 
noble people in affliction. Miss Gay has made numer- 
ous contributions to our literature which mark her 
as a woman of rare capacity and exquisite feelings, 
but she has done no work that is worthier of gratitude 
and praise than that embodied in "Life in Dixie."— 
T/ie Atlanta JoimiaU January 17, 1893. 

"LIFE IN DIXIE." 

Miss Mary Gay's recent book, "Life in Dixie Dur- 
ing- the War," is rapidly winning favor with the pub- 
lict Some of our most distinguished writers speak of 
it in very high terms as a notable contribution to our 
history. The Rev. Dr. J. William Jones says of it : 

'"Life in Dixie During the War' is a charming 
story of home-life during those dark days when our no- 
ble women displayed a patient endurance, and active 
zeal, a self-denying work in the hospitals, a genuine 
patriotism, a true heroism which equalled the 
record of their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in 

the army. 

"But Decatur, near Atlanta, was the scene of stir- 
ring events during Sherman's campaign against the 
doomed city, and Miss Gay's facile pen vividly por- 
trays historic events of deepest interest, 

'"Visits from the soldier boy to the old home, letters 
from the camp, visits to the camps and hospitals, the 
^moke and changing scenes of battle in the enemy's 
lines, refugeeing, and many other events of those stir- 
ring days, are told with the vividness of an eye-witness 
and the pen of an accomplished writer. 



392 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"It is, in a word, a vivid and true picture of ' Life 
in Dixie During- the War,' and should find a place not 
only in our Southern homes, but in the homes of all 
who desire to see a true account of the life of our no- 
ble women during- those trying- days. 

"Rev. John William Jones.'" 

The Constitution, May 2nd, 1893. 



The "Confederate Love Song-," by Miss Mary A. 
H. Gay, of Decatur, was written during- the late war. 
It is a charming- bit of verse, and forms one of a g-alaxy 
of beautiful song-s from the same true pen. In 1880, 
Miss Gay published a volume of verses which received 
the unusual compliment of public demand for no less 
than eleven editions. The author's life is one of the 
most beautiful; it is, therefore, quite natural that her 
poetry should partake of the simple truth and sincerity 
of that life, consecrated as it is, and ever has been, to 
the noblest work. — Atlanta Constitution. 



Miss Gay's Book, "Life in Dixie During- the War." 
— Editor ^^Sttniiy South :^'' Permit me to say a few 
words throug-h the columns of your widely read and 
popular paper about Miss Mary A. H. Gay's " Life 
in Dixie During- the War," the second and enlarg-ed 
edition of which book has just been issued from the 
press. 

The fact that a second and enlarg-ed edition has. 
been called for is proof that the merits of this g-enuine 
Southern story has been appreciated by our people. 
Not only has the author in her book perpetuated 



DURING THE WAR. 393 

interesting- and liistoriceillj valuable material of merely 
local character, but, to the careful reader, she also 
presents matter that goes to the deep moral, social 
and political roots of the cause of the people of the 
South, that g-rew and flowered into the crimson rose 
of war, which the South plucked and wore upon her 
heart during- four of the most trag-ic yet g-lorious 
years recorded in history. 

But the chief charms of the book are its simple, 
earnest, homel}^ style, its depth of womanl}^ and loyal 
feeling-, and the glimpses we g-et of the homes and 
hearts of our people during- these years of patient suffer- 
ing- and "crucifixion of the soul;" and along- with 
the passion and the pain, we are presented with 
pictures of our people's frequently laug-hable "make- 
shifts " to supply man}^ of the common necessaries of 
life and household appliances of which the stress and 
savage devastation deprived nearly every Southern 
family. Above all we are impressed by the more 
than Spartan heroism, the tender love, the unwavering- 
loyalty, the devoted, self-sacrificing- spirit of our noble 
Southern womanhood, of which this book speaks so 
eloquently in its naive simplicity, and of which traits 
of character, the modest author herself is a living and 
universally beloved example. 

The book deserves a place in the hearts and homes 
of our people. Surely the patriotic motives that 
inspired its author to write it is the only passport it 
needs to public favor and patronage. 

Chari^es W. Hubner, 

''Sumiy South,'' Atlanta, Ga., November 3, 1894, 



26 



394 LIFE IN DIXIE 



A WAR STORY. 



Even in these piping- times of peace (peace as far 
as our own borders are concerned, at any rate) — there 
is a relish in a war story. And when the scene is laid 
rig-ht here in Georgia, in Decatur, in Atlanta; when 
familiar names come up in the course of the narrative, 
and familiar events are pictured by an honest eye- 
witness ; when all throug-h the little volume you feel 
the truthfulness of the writer, and know that the inci- 
dents she narrates happened just so ; when, too, you 
see the writer herself — see her to be an old lady now, 
who reall}' was a heroine in her 3^oung days ; and then 
read the simple, personal narrative — now stirring-, as 
the battle-g-uns sound — now touching-, as some dear 
one falls ; with all this combination of interest, a war 
story claims and holds the attention. 

Such is the little book, called "Life in Dixie," 
written by Miss Mary Ga}^ and telling of those stir- 
ring times in and about Atlanta, back yonder in the 
sixties. 

There are some vivid pictures in that modest little 
volume, as well as some interesting facts. Miss Gay 
was in the thick of the strife, and tells what she saw 
in those dark daj^s. 

Among the well-known characters, associated with 
the recorded events, we find Mrs. h. P. Grant, Mr. 
and Mrs. Posey Maddox, Dr. J. P. Logan and many 
others. 

A most interesting fact disclosed in those pages is 
the surprising one that two sisters of Mrs. Abraham 
Lincoln married Alabama officers in the Confederate 



DURING THE WAB. 395 

army ; there is recorded the public presentation, by 
those two ladies, of an elegant silk banner made for a 
gallant young- company in Georgia's daug-hter-State. 
Thus consi:)icuous were those women in the Southern 
Confederacy, while their sister and her dearest inter- 
ests lay on the other side. 

Another matter of history which will be interest- 
ing- to the present generation of readers, however 
much we may have read of the mammoth prices for 
the necessaries of life in those hard days, is the fol- 
lowing list of articles, with the cost thereof in Confed- 
erate money, bought by Miss Gay, after a ride of forty 
miles to obtain them : 

One bushel of meal, $10.00 ; four bushels of corn, 
$40.00; fifteen pounds of flour, $7.50; four pounds of 
dried apples, $5.00 ; one and a half pounds of butter, 
$6.00; a bushel of sweet potatoes, $6.00; three gallons 
of syrup, $15.00; for shoeing the horse, $25.00 ; for a 
night's lodging for self and horse, at Mrs. Born's, 
$10.00. 

Then, the vehicle in which the trip for these sup- 
plies was made ! 

It was contriv^ed by "Uncle Mack," a dusky hero 
of those times. "It was a something he had impro- 
vised which baffled description," writes Miss Ga3^ 
"and which, for the sake of the faithful service I 
obtained from it, I will not attempt to describe. Suf- 
fice it to sa}^ that it carried living freight over many 
a bridge ; and in honor of this, I will call it a wagon." 

The horse, which the author herself captured to 
draw this remarkable vehicle, was equally remarka- 
ble, and his subsequent history is one of the most 



396 LIFE IN DIXIE 

interesting- bits of narrative in the book. I wish I 
could ^ive it all in Miss Ga^^'s own words, but my 
space does not admit of that. 

But there is not a child in your household who 
would not be interested in the account of how the poor 
starved horse was lassoed and secured — how he was 
fed and streng-thened, and cared for, and finally har- 
nessed up with ropes and pieces of crocus sacks ; how 
the letters, "U. S." were found branded on each of his 
sides, causing- his mistress to name him "Yankee"; how 
she g-rew to love him so that she deemed that name 
ill-fitting-, and decided to re-christen him "Johnnie 
Reb.," which she did one day with effective ceremo- 
nial by a brook-side; how he rendered invaluable ser- 
vice to his mistress many and many a time, and was a 
treasured member of the little family that passed such 
stormy times in the war-stricken villag-e of Decatur; 
all this is worth reading-, told, as it is, with a g-entle 
humor, and a strict truthfulness which is the chief 
charm of that historic picture. For it is historic. 
And it were well for the rising- generation to read its 
vivid portrayals of that period. 

And thoug-h Miss Ga}' was evidently an ardent se- 
cessionist, and is now, I fancy, one of the altog-ether 
unreconstructed few, her book contains records of more 
than one kindness received at the hands of officers of 
the United States army — kindness proffered, too, in the 
face of her fearless avowal of opinion. 

Some parts of the book (I will add, if the g-entle au- 
thor will allow me) seem somewhat too bitter towards 
our brethren of the North. But this criticism is from 
the standpoint of one who knew not the horrors of that 



DURING THE WAB. 397 

dreadful war. If I had seen the desohition and de- 
struction which followed it in the wake of Sherman's 
army, as Miss Gay saw it and suffered by it (throug-h 
mother and brother and friends, as well as throug-h 
personal privation), — if I had thus suffered, doubtless 
I, too, would be unable to look impartially upon these 
Federal leaders and their actuating- motives — unable 
to see that, thoug-h Sherman was a most unmerciful 
conqueror, he was not altog-ether a fiend. 

But there is only a touch of this severe judgement 
in Miss Gay's little book. The g-reater portion of it is 
simply historic — a faithful chronicling- of events ex- 
perienced by the writer herself, who was a veritable 
heroine in those days of horrors. 

Miss Gay is to be congratulated upon the fact that 
"Life in Dixie" is entering upon its second edition. 
Let me sug-g-est that you g-et it for your children, 3'ou 
parents. The rising- g-eneration should learn of the 
stirring- events which happened rig-ht here in Atlanta 
thirty years ag-o. 

The story will hold their attention and interest 
throug-hout — the soldier-brother who fell in the strife, 
the faithful black Toby sketched so tenderly, the per- 
ilous trip of Miss Gay herself, as she carried the 
blankets and overcoats throug-h the enemy's ranks to 
the boys in g-ray — all this will vastly entertain those 
young- folks, at the same time it teaches them of the 
Battle of Atlanta, and the concurrent events.— Emel 
Jay, in The Atlanta Journal, November 24th, 1894. 



"EmelJay" is Miss Mary L. Jackson, danghtor of llie late iion. James 
Jackson, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Georgia. 



398 LIFE IN DIXIE 

" Life in Dixie During- the War " is the title of a 
volume just perused which transcends in interest, 
truth and beauty all the historical tomes and g-ar- 
landed fiction to which that epoch has g-iven birth. 
It embraces the personal experiences and observations 
of a woman, g-ifted far bej-ond the ordinary, who 
came in contact with the sadness, the bloodshed and 
the misery of the unhapp}^ strug-g-le. A loved brother 
laid down his life on the bloodiest battle-field, friends 
parted and vanished from her, and wealth was swal- 
lowed in the maw of destruction. 

She tells her story — for story it is — with an exquis- 
ite g-race, and with a woman's tenderness and sympathy 
for the people she loved and the cause she adored. 
Her lang-uag"e is loft}^ upon occasion, her memories 
perhaps too keen, her g^entleness possibl}^ too exclusive 
to her own, but her work is done with a fidelity and 
consistency beyond comparison. The scene is Deca- 
tur, Ga., but threads, visible or invisible, reach to 
every hamlet and entwine every heart in the evanished 
Confederacy. The heroism of men, the daring- of 
boys, the endurance of women, alike are painted with 
a skill that requires no color. 

Those who wish to embalm their recollections of 
home-life during- the war, and those who desire to 
know what it was, should read this book. It is one 
of the records of the past that should be in every 
librar3\ It is beautifull}^ printed, neatly cloth-bound, 
and contains 300 pag-es. — T/ic Tampa Daily Times^ 
January 17, 1895. 



DVRING THE WAR. 399 

FROM THE OTHER SIDE. 

A UNION soldier's TRIBUTE TO A SOUTHERN 

woman's book. 

EvANSTON, III., December 30th, 1895. 
Mary A. H. Gay: 

Dear Madam: Allow me to thank you for g-iving- 
to the world inside home life in the South during- the 
war. All histories of the war that have been written 
have been confined to battles and movements of 
armies, which are so likened to the histories of other 
wars that when you have read one you may say that 
you have read them all. But yours g-ives a local and 
romantic description of real life, and I feel like con- 
g-ratulating you and calling- the scenes in which you 
played so important a part the heyday of your exist- 
ence. I take it you were the daughter, pampered and 
cuddled child, of rich and influential people, and had it 
not been for the war you would have been raised with 
much pomp, arrogance and importance of family, 
which, in the very nature of your surrounding's, would 
have destroyed all the finer and nobler traits which 
want and misery have developed into a g-rand, noble, 
self-sacrificing and heroic woman. And although 3^ou 
portray the scenes freig-hted with misery, want and 
desolation, yet they were halcyon days to one like you, 
romantic, energetic, patriotic and self-sacrificing-, and 
now, as 3^ou are passing down the shady lane of life, 
you live in the memories of the past, the part you 
played in the heroic strug-g-le, and the noble woman- 
hood developed ; and the assurance that you did well 



400 LIF:E in DIXIE 

your part in the g"reat trag^edy strews roses and 
g-arlands along- the path of your declining- years. 

"I follow you throug-h all these stirring- scenes ; I 
sit beside you in your hours of g-loom and blig-hted 
hopes ; I follow you beside the ox-cart that drew 
its freig-ht of human misery ; I walk with you into 
the woody retreats and sit beside you upon the banks 
of the limpid stream and mix my tears with yours ; 
I tramp with you over the scenes of desolation ; I 
sorrow with you over the death of Toby ; I mourn 
with you over the sudden death of noble Thomie ; I sit 
beside the death-bed of your sainted mother and min- 
g-le my tears- with yours ; I g"ladly accompany you on 
your weary tramp with your much-loved 'Yankee' or 
Johnnie Reb ; I g-ather with you the leaden missiles 
of death to buy food for starving- friends and fellow- 
sufferers ; I pass with you throug-h all the scenes that 
are freig-hted with hope, love, despair and expecta- 
tion ; I am your friend and sympathizer in all your 
misfortunes, and yet I am one of those ' accursed ' 
Yankee soldiers who have been the bane of your life. 

"The strang-e blending- of pathos and diplomacy 
on pag-es 91 and 92 may be said to be amusing-ly ex- 
pressive. Chapter 13 is intensely interesting-, dra- 
matic and romantic ; still I see no reason that I should 
speak of these isolated passag-es, for the whole book is 
equally interesting-, and would foreshadow for it a 
larg-e sale in the North if properly handled. As to 
the mechanical construction of the book, I am much 
pleased with your lang-uag-e, as it is free from Carlyl- 
ism and ostentatious Kng-lish, •which mars so much of 
the writing's of many of our modern authors. I hold 



BUBING THE WAR 401 

that when a book is overloaded with this disirustine- 
use of the dictionary it is what Goklsmith terms 'dis- 
play of book learned skill.' 

The book was kindly sent me by a lady friend in 
Atlanta, Mrs. Delbridg-e, and I hope when I visit 
Atlanta ag-ain I may have the pleasure of meeting- the. 
authoress that nature has endowed with such wonder- 
ful power of description." 

Most respectfully, 

Charles Aikin. 

Published in T/ic Atlanta Constitution Januar}^ 5th, 
1896. 



"LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR, 

is the title of one of the best series of sketches that 
has been written about the ' late unpleasantness.' It 
contains the record of one woman's experience during- 
the five years of warfare between the North and the 
South. The author. Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of Deca- 
tur, Georg-ia, one of the most graceful writers in the 
South, has handled the subject in a masterful manner. 
'Truth is strang-er than fiction,' and the work abounds 
in truth. The volume oug-ht to be on sale at every 
news-stand in the South. The book has been de- 
scribed as containing- ' a living- picture of those trying- 
times — not to stir up bitter feelings and hatred, but a 
history, and such history as cannot be obtained in any 
other form.' Miss Gay was in the thick of the strife, 
' and in a modest way shows herself a heroine worthy 
of any romance.' Her pen describes scenes that bring 
tears for the pain and suffering, and laughter at the 



402 LIFE IN DIXIE 

' makeshifts ' resorted to by those noble people in the 
hour of actual need. ' Some parts of the narrative 
may be jud^-ed as rather bitter towards the enemy by 
those who know not the horrors of that war. But let 
such critics put themselves in the wake of Sherman's 
arm}^ and suffer as the writer, and they will feel more 
charitable towards her who, in recalling- those expe- 
riences, finds it hard to love all her enemies. There is 
only a touch of this old-time bitterness, however ; 
most of the book is simply historic, and Miss Gay 
does not hesitate to record many kindnesses received 
at the hands of Federal officers.' Such a valuable 
contribution to the history of the war should be prized. 
It is a vivid chronicle, and the rising- g-eneration 
should learn of those stirring- events. They will read 
with unflag-^ing- interest to the end of the narrative. 
We wish for it a wide circulation." — The Arkansas 
Gazette, March 10th, 1896. 



LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. 

BY MARY A. H. GAY, DECATUR, GA. 

We endorse most heartily the praise bestowed on 
this modest volume by the g-eneral press. Within the 
same scope we do not believe a truer or more sympa- 
thetic picture of the ghastly war time has ever been 
written. It is not fiction, but a faithful presentation 
of one woman's experience during the five years that 
bounded the war between the States. 

The writer was in the very thick of the strife, and 
while with admirable modesty she has endeavored to 



DURING THE WAR. 403 

keep herself out of her book, it is clear that she was 
one of the heroic and indefatig-able women who 
brought into scenes of suffering- the ministr}' of 
tenderness. The recital of events as they were, brings 
humor into the book, whose tenor in the main, how- 
ever, is necessarily sad. 

By those to whom the war is simply a tale that is 
told, there are parts of the book in which the writer 
will be accused of undue bitterness. However, no 
such critics, we think, will be found among- the people 
to whom the war was a reality. Miss Ga}^ records, 
without hesitation, many kindnesses received at the 
hands of the Federal officers. 

Texas soldiers of Granbury's brigade, Cleburne's 
division, and Hood's corps, figure conspicuously and 
by name in the book. Miss Gay visited Hood's 
headquarters twice while the brig-ade was encamped 
in Georgia, the last time just before they left Georgia 
for the fatal march into Tennessee. The night- 
scene she describes near Jonesboro, where they were 
encamped, is most graphic and pathetic. Miss Gay 
is the woman w^ho collected the money to have the 
soldiers who fell at Franklin, Tennessee, reburied, 
when she heard that the owners of the battlefield said 
their graves should be ploughed over. She collected 
$7,000, and her name is engraved on the silver plate 
on the entrance gate at the McGavock cemetery, 
which she so largely helped to build. — 77/f Richmond 
Times, Feb. 16, 1896. 



404 LIFE IN DIXIE 

LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. 

The following- deserved complimentary notice of 
the book, "Life in Dixie During- the War," written b}^ 
Miss Mar}^ A. H. Gay, of Georgia, we clip from the 
New York Times : "Joel Chandler Harris' brief in- 
troduction to Miss Gay's reminiscences of the civil war 
tells of the authenticity of this simple story, and how 
a book of this character is of that kind from whence 
'history will get its supplies.' The dark days are 
described with absolute fidelity, and this is a qualitj^ 
we may look for in vain ' in more elaborate and am- 
bitious publications.' Think of the strangeness of 
things, the breaks in families, when the author tells 
how, at the presentation of a flag, the banner was 
made for a company of Confederate soldiers by Miss 
Ella Todd and Mrs. White, of Lexington, Kentucky, 
the sisters of Mrs. Abraham Lincoln, the wife of the 
great President. 

It was in and around Decatur, Georgia, where the 
author now lives, that, in the storm and heat of the 
war, heroicall}^ and unflinchingly the women of the 
South did their duty in helping those in the field. 
You will find no incidents of the war which do not 
show the colored man in the South at his best. Miss 
Gay describes their devotion and what true friends 
they were. The author tells how more than once 
she was near starvation. It happened that the house 
in which she lived became the headquarters of a troop 
of United States Cavalry. Ver}^ possiblj^ bureau 
drawers became convenient feed troughs for horses. 
After the cavalry had left there was not a morsel to 



DVRING THE WAB. 405 

eat. The famished children, white and black, were 
cr3nng- for food. The day was spent b}^ the women 
picking- up g-rains of corn from the cracks and crev- 
ices in bureau drawers, and other improvised troug-hs 
for Federal horses. In this way, by dilig-ent and per- 
severing- work, about a half bushel of corn was 
obtained. The corn, having- been thoroug-hly washed 
and dried, was taken to a small mill and coarsely 
g-round, and served to g-ive the hung-ry ones their 
bread. The utter destitution of the people after the 
fall of Atlanta is shown in this way: Lead was in 
demand, and on the battlefields around Atlanta it 
could be picked up, pellet by pellet. Delicately nur- 
tured women dug- up the spent minie balls from the 
frozen clods and exchang-ed them for bread. — The 
Mechanicsburg^, Pa., Free Press, February, 20, 1896. 

LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. 

BY MARY A. H. GAY, DECATUK, GA. 

Of the numerous stories which have had as their 
basis the war between the States, there are few truer 
pictures, in our opinion, than that presented by a 
Southern woman in this volume, with a telling- preface 
by Joel Chandler Harris. The writer's home was in 
Decatur, but the stories include the history of the 
entire section, and g-ive much very interesting- infor- 
mation relative to life in Atlanta, particularly during- 
the war era. Miss Gay was in the very heart of the 
strife, and she describes with the vig-orous pen of one 
to whom the matter is a vital reality. — 7 he Southern 
Churchman, Richmond, Va., March 12, 1896. 



t 

406 LIFE JJV DIXIE 

LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR. 

The volume written and published by Miss Mary 
A. H. Gay, of Georgia, entittled "Life in Dixie Dur- 
the War," is one of the few books in the flood tide 
of literature on the great civil conflict that many will 
read with interest, because it is a woman's story of 
actual life in Dixie from the beginning- to the close of 
the great conflict. We have volumes in abundance 
which tell of the great battles of the war, of the 
achievement of heroes and the sacrifices which at- 
tended the victories, but the story of the home life of 
Southern people during the war must ever be of ab- 
sorbing interest to every American. They are our 
people, our countrymen, sharing the common inheri- 
tance of heroism in eiU the conflicts of the Republic, 
and that part of the historj^ of the war of the rebellion 
that is least understood is the extraordinary sufl'erings 
and sacrifices of the Southern women, who heroicalh^ 
aided their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in 
the unequal contest. Miss Gay gives a plain unvar- 
nished stor}^ of life in Georgia during the war, and of 
the many sad sacrifices to which the families of South- 
ern people were subjected. One of the noticeable 
features of this storj^ commencing with the expression 
of confident hope for the success of the Confederac}^ 
and ending in the starless midnight of gloom that at- 
tended the surrender of Lee and his legions, is given 
in the description of a presentation of a silken banner 
to the Magnolia Cadets when the war began. The 
banner was prepared and finished by Mrs. Dr. White, 
of Lexington, Kentuck}^, and her sister Miss Todd, 



nUBING THE WAR. 407 

sisters of Mrs. President Lincoln, and they were pre- 
sented to the enthusiastic audience by Captain Dawson, 
who subsequently married Miss Todd. 

Miss Gay's volume is full of interesting- incidents, 
showing- the heroism and sublime faith and endurance 
of the women of the South during- the terrible ordeal. 
Like all Southern women, she was intensely devoted 
to the Southern Cause, and often exposed herself to 
great peril to serve the Confederacy. More than once 
she took her life into her hand to aid the hopeless 
cause in which the Southern armies had eng-ag-ed. It 
was principally by her efforts that money was raised 
to entomb the Confederates that fell at the bloody bat- 
tle of Franklin, Tennessee. Her name is engraved on 
a silver plate that is mounted on the entrance g-ate of 
the cemetery, and there are few who will not become 
readers of her book. It is in every way interesting- to 
people both North and South, and should have a very 
wide circulation.— From T/ie Times, Philadelphia, 
Pa., May 27, 1896. 

LIFE IN DIXIK DURING THE WAR. 

Many stories of the late war have been written, 
some from the stand point of the "Blue," and some 
from the "Grey," but we doubt w^hether a truer 
picture of real war times in the South has ever been 
depicted than the one found in this modest little 
volume. There is no fiction in it, but it is the record 
of one woman's experiences during- the war. 

Her home was in Decatur, Georg-ia, but her narra- 
tive includes the history of all that portion of 



408 LIFE IN DIXIE 

country. Very few persons who did not live in that 
section know or remember to what extent those people 
suffered. And we would commend them to this book 
— a living picture of those trying- times — not to stir up 
bitter feelings and hatred, but because it is history, 
and such history as cannot be obtained in any other 
form. 

Miss Gay was in the thick of the strife, and in a 
modest way she shows herself a heroine worthy of any 
romance. Her pen describes scenes that bring tears 
for the pain and suffering, and laughter at the "make- 
shifts " resorted to by these noble people in the hour 
of actual needs. Some parts of the narrative may be 
regarded as rather bitter towards the enemy by those 
who know not the horrors of that war. But let such 
critics put themselves in the wake of Sherman's army, 
and suffer as the writer did, and we think they will 
feel more charitably towards her, who, in recalling 
those experiences, find it hard to love all her enemies. 
There is only a touch of this old time bitterness, how- 
ever ; most of the book is simply historic, and Miss 
Ga}' does not hesitate to record many kindnesses 
received at the hands of the Federal officers. Such a 
valuable contribution to the history of the war should 
be prized. It is a vivid chronicle and the rising 
generation should learn of those stirring events. 
The}^ will read with unflagging interest to the end of 
the narrative. We wish for it a wide circulation. — 
'' The Christian Observer^" Louisville, Kentucky, May 
8th, 1896. 

Commendatory noticesTiave also appeared in "The 



BUBING THE WAR. 409 

Hampton (Florida) Advocate,'' ''The Decatur 
Record,'' "The DeKalb Qo\xx\\.y Nezv Em;' " The Wes- 
lejan Christian Advocate^'' etc. 

The following- letter was written to Mr. C. D. 
Mitchell, Secretary' and Treasurer of Chattanooga 
Plow Company, Chattanooga, Tennessee : 

Cincinnati, Ohio, November 30, 1896. 

My Dear Mitchei^l — I have read Miss Gay's book 
on "Ivife in Dixie During- the War," and thank you 
very much for g-iving- me the opportunity to read it. 
I fancy you will think I am a g-ood deal of a "calf," 
but I couldn't help choking- up a g-ood many times as 
I read of the terrible experience of the poor women 
and children and helpless ag-ed people when misfor- 
tune placed them in the path of the armies during- 
that bloody period, and we who were at the front 
knew but little of the misery in the wake of the armies. 

I was g-lad to see that Miss Ga}^ speaks kindly of 
our command, and that we afforded protection to her 
family without leaving- any harm to them in any way. 

To-day is the anniversary of the death of her 
brother, killed in front of our works at Franklin. 
When I read of his death the whole bloody scene was 
revived, and how useless and fool-hardy that charg-e 
of Cleburne's over the open cotton fields at Franklin 
upon our works. The dead were almost countless, 
and one long- g-rave was dug- for all. I well remember 
this immense trench where the Confederates were laid 
side by side. I commanded the 1st Batallion that day 
at the battle of Franklin, and we had a very warm 
time of it. We retreated on Nashville the followinir 



410 LIFE IN DIXIE . 

day, and I was cut off from the Regiment for a while, 
but we finally made a big- detour and regained our 
lines. After the battle of Nashville we occupied the 
Franklin battlefield, and I went carefull}- over the 
whole field. Hood's charge upon our Franklin works, 
if successful, would have been a moderate victory onh% 
but unsuccessful, it was a most terrible loss to him. 

At 57 you and I look at things rather different 
than we did in our youth of 22, and while scars of 
war may be healed, they are nevertheless not forgot- 
ten. With kind regards. Yours very truly, 

T. F. Allen, 

I think General Garrard would like to read this 
book, if he has not already done so, and if you approve 
I will send it up to him and return it to 3^ou later. At 
this season of the vear he has time to read. 

T. F. A. 



